


Complexities of the Mind

by BittyBlueEyes



Series: Eleven and His Rose [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Amnesia, F/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4439039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittyBlueEyes/pseuds/BittyBlueEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rose never makes it to their rendezvous point, the Doctor is thrown into a panic. When he finds her, he's a bit too late. Can he fix his broken Rose? --After Part 1, the series can be read in any order.</p><p>Torchwood Series 3 Spoilers</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *** Torchwood Series 3 Spoilers! ***
> 
> You don't need to watch Torchwood to understand this plot, but if you plan to watch it, you might want to save this fic until after you've done so.

One hour… The Doctor looked around anxiously, checking his watch regularly though his time sense kept him very aware of each passing minute. Rose was late. She was never late.  
  
Two hours… The Doctor paced restlessly in front of the TARDIS, kicking up red dust with each step. Punctual. That was Rose. It could be just a small miscalculation, but she was very careful when setting in coordinates. He could try finding her, but he didn't know when he should arrive. Too soon and things could get very mixed up.  
  
Three hours… That was his limit. She had a time machine. No matter how long she spent away, she could always make it to a rendezvous on time. It could only mean one thing — something was stopping her. The Doctor raced into the TARDIS and was quick on the controls. Sister TARDISs, his and hers. So long as she wasn't in the time vortex, his TARDIS could track hers anywhere.  
  
_Earth, Cardiff, 21 September 2009_  
  
The Doctor fought hard to remember anything significant about the that period of time, but nothing was forthcoming. A threat existed though, or Rose would be with him now. The coordinates were set in mere seconds and the TARDIS took flight.  
  
The TARDIS had barely finished materializing when the Doctor raced out the door. He had landed just where he intended, a small garden in Rose's TARDIS. He was quick in making his way to the door and even faster as he ran through the corridors, calling her name in a loud panicked voice. Upon finding the console room empty, the Doctor made no hesitation in racing for the door.  
  
"Rose?!" he shouted into the darkness. He appeared to be standing in the middle of an abandoned factory or warehouse. Shadows of electrical equipment stood alone near the wall with the light of one computer shining through the room. The man sitting at it stood quickly to face him.  
  
"Doctor?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
The Doctor froze for half a moment, the voice quite familiar to him. "Where is she?"  
  
"Knew you'd show eventually. Not for me, of course," the American accent was full of disdain, but sounded tired at the same time.  
  
"Don't play with me, Jack. Where is she? What happened to her?" the Doctor demanded as he approached.  
  
"She's- She's alright. She's safe," Jack replied a little quieter.  
  
"Don't lie to me! If she was safe, she'd be with me. What happened? What was she even doing here?" The Doctor's eyes were hard and his nostrils flared in anger. Jack's jaw clenched and stared straight back.  
  
"She was here because you weren't," he ground out. "We needed you. The world needed you. I called and I called and you never picked up the damn phone! I was desperate, so desperate that I tried her phone. It was a long shot, I knew, but she answered and when I asked for help, she came running."  
  
"What happened?" the Doctor demanded again.  
  
"Aliens were at our door, making demands we couldn't give. We didn't know what to do. Then we found a solution. We needed a sacrifice. This is what I got." Jack thrust a paper angrily into the Doctor's hand but looked away in what the Doctor feared might be might be shame. His insides twisted with overwhelming anxiety. His hands shook as he read the quickly scrawled note.  
  
_Use me instead. I won't die. I promise._  
  
The writing was unmistakably Rose's. The Doctor's greatest fears were rising up inside him. In fury he hadn't unleashed in ages, he grabbed Jack by his coat's lapel and nearly lifted the man from the ground. "What did you do to her?"  
  
"I wouldn't have if I thought there was any other-"  
  
"There's always another way!"  
  
"But we couldn't find it!" Jack bellowed in return.  
  
"If you needed a sacrifice, then it should have been you!"  
  
"You don't think I would have if I could?! I would in a heartbeat! But we needed a child — a human child — it was the only way to transmit the wavelengths necessary-"  
  
"Rose isn't a child! She-"  
  
"She was when she came out!" The Doctor was stunned into silence so Jack continued. "She walked into that box and came out looking 8 years old with that note clutched in her hand. It was between the death of an innocent little boy and a competent woman that claimed she wouldn't die."  
  
The Doctor released him instantly and raced back to Rose's TARDIS. He no longer wanted to hear it. He wanted to see it with his own eyes. Standing in front of the monitor, the Doctor brought up the TARDIS's video record. There, three days prior, he found the event and watched in horror.  
  
Little Rose Tyler, a girl around eight years of age, walked up to Jack and handed him the note. For a moment he stood there staring at her, too surprised to even glance at the paper. When he did, he began looking around helplessly, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes turned to the hysterical little boy being restrained in the far corner and back at the stoic little girl in front of him. Rose took his hand and gave him a small sad smile. She didn't say a word, but she didn't need to. Her offer was there and she was urging him to take it.  
  
Jack scrubbed his face with his hands. The option tortured him but he was desperate and running out of time. He didn't look at Rose again. He couldn't. He reached down and took her hand and led her to a small circular platform that stood in the center of many computer control stations. He released her once she was in place and turned his head. He couldn't look at her. He moved to a laptop in the circle of equipment, positioned directly in front of her and typed as quickly as he could. Rose glanced around with a worried frown, but then suddenly stiffened, her eyes glazed over and her mouth hung open. A high pitched, unnatural tone emitted from her tiny body. It increased in volume and waved in pitch. She was screaming, screaming at the top of her lungs. The scream went on for over a minute and her body began to shake, a spasm coursing through every muscle in her body at the distress the signal was causing her. Then the blood came. Slowly leaking from her nostrils, and then trickling from her ears. And then she collapsed.  
  
Silent tears streamed down the Doctor's face. He had forgotten how to breathe minutes ago, but now sobbed on that held breath.  
  
The video wasn't done. Jack raced forward and knelt at Rose's side desperately calling her name. The young girl's eyes were closed and Jack very gently shook her, pleading for her to wake. He pulled his hands back suddenly and watched as a golden mist began to rise from her body.  
  
"Oh god, no," Jack gasped, shaking his head. He recognized the sign of regeneration and watched helplessly, but only for a second more. "No. No you don't."  
  
He leant over her body, pinched her nose, and breathed into her mouth. After a few breaths, he came up and began forcefully pressing on her tiny chest, pleading with her the entire time. The gold mist held suspended around her, neither rising nor receding. People around them stood staring, but Jack saw nothing but his dear friend. It took several rounds of CPR, but Rose took a sudden breath and stared up at Jack in shock. He smiled, he laughed, held her against his chest, and cried.  
  
The Doctor saw none of Jack's fear, heroism, or relief. He couldn't see past the suffering his Rose had endured.  
  
He stormed out of the TARDIS and made straight for Jack.  
  
"I'm sorry, Doctor. Really, I am. I would never want to hurt Rose. I just-" Jack's speech was cut short when the Doctor's fist struck his jaw. Jack didn't retaliate. He didn't even move, clearly believing that he truly deserved it.  
  
"Where is she?" the Doctor hissed.  
  
"At a friend of mine's," Jack answered quietly. "She's alright. Well, she... She's just-"  
  
"Take me there," the Doctor ordered.  
  
Jack didn't utter another word. The two of them climbed into a black vehicle marked 'Torchwood' and the Doctor sneered at the name. The ride was silent, as was the walk up to Gwen's flat, but when they made it to the door, Jack stopped him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Doctor stopped him, leaning in close to the door to listen.  
  
"You know the ancient Aztecs used chocolate as currency, well, cacao beans, but to me that's chocolate," Rose's young voice spoke casually. "Thousand years later, humans spread out through the galaxy, further even, bringing their beloved chocolate with them, planting cacao trees wherever they settled. Can you believe that by the 79th century, there are no less than 14 planets trading in cacao! Seriously, money you can eat! The Doctor says-"  
  
The Doctor was ready to push into the flat, but was stopped again by Jack. "Listen, Doctor."  
  
When the Doctor didn't seem keen on listening, Jack pushed him back and blocked his way. "You need to listen. She… I didn't know how to tell you and I still don't now… She's not the same. She…"  
  
"Whatever she is, I'll see for myself." The Doctor's fury was rising again.  
  
"I'm trying to warn you, Doc; her brain doesn't work right." Jack shoved him back again and the Doctor paused.  
  
"What do you mean it doesn't work right?"  
  
"She can't remember."  
  
"Can't remember what?" The Doctor didn't want to waste any more time on Jack, but his concern for Rose always came first.  
  
"Anything," Jack replied quietly, staring down at his shoes.  
  
"But I heard her. I heard her just now. She's-"  
  
Jack let out a great sigh and reached for the door. "You'll see."  
  
"Jack!" Gwen gasped in surprise, nearly spilling the two mugs of tea in her hands. "Don't you ever knock anymore? I swear-" She paused when she saw he wasn't alone and gaped at the Doctor. "Is that him?"  
  
Jack affirmed with a nod. "Hey, Rosie," he greeted brightly. Rose sat on the floor in front of the coffee table with a deck of playing cards in her hands. At Jack's greeting, she looked up at him, but did not respond. She tucked a strand of dark blond hair behind her ear and placed the playing cards on the table.  
  
"I brought a friend with me today," Jack continued brightly, gesturing toward the Doctor. "Does he look familiar?"  
  
Rose shrugged in reply and stared down at the deck of cards with a sad look on her face. The Doctor's hearts broke and his breathing became irregular again. His words when he spoke were broken by fear and confusion. "But… But she mentioned me. She was talking about chocolate and the 79th century and me."  
  
"Rose," Jack asked quietly, "what's chocolate?"  
  
Rose shrugged again, intentionally not looking in his direction. She picked up the cards and began shuffling them expertly.  
  
"What's it taste like?" Jack prompted further. At each shrug he received, he asked another question. "What's it look like? Have you seen it before? What color is it?"  
  
"Jack, that's enough," Gwen cut him off tartly. "That's why she's afraid of you now. You keep pushing her."  
  
"Three days, Gwen, and she still can't remember my name."  
  
"It doesn't mean she hasn't come to fear you," Gwen argued.  
  
"The Doctor's here now. He needs to see."  
  
"Fine then, but let me do it," Gwen said quietly. She wasn't happy to volunteer, but she spent more time with Rose, and Rose seemed to have taken to her. After all, Gwen didn't usually quiz her like Jack did. He was never unkind, but was easily frustrated, always discouraged by lack of progress.  
  
Gwen set the mugs down on the coffee table and sat on the floor across from Rose. "I made you some tea," she offered, pushing it toward the young girl.  
  
Rose nodded, took the proffered cup, and began gently blowing over it.  
  
"You know we have to play that game again, don't you?" Gwen asked gently.  
  
Rose nodded.  
  
"You remember the game?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Game?" Rose answered quietly with obvious confusion.  
  
"Yes, it might be a bit hard, but we're trying to help you." Gwen took Rose's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You ready?"  
  
At Rose's nearly imperceptible nod, Gwen began. "Okay, Rose, what's your name?"  
  
Rose looked miserable as she considered the question and gave a tiny shrug.  
  
"What about your mum? Do you remember her?"  
  
Rose shook her head.  
  
"What about when I say 'mum' though? What's the first thing you think when I say 'mum'?"  
  
"Pete and Tony," came Rose's small reply.  
  
"Good!" Gwen praised, patting her hand. A small smile appeared on Rose's face then. "Can you tell me who Pete and Tony are then?"  
  
Rose's smile dropped and, after a second’s thought, she shook her head.  
  
"No, no, don't be sad. You're doing just fine. This is hard. I know it is," Gwen said consolingly. "How about we take a look at some of the pictures you drew today? Would that be better?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Well, I hope so. You're a very good artist. I'm sure I couldn't do as well." Gwen took a small stack of papers from beside her and pointed at the first one. "This is a nice one. Can you tell me what it is?"  
  
The picture, drawn in colored pencil, was the Doctor's TARDIS, expertly colored in a dark blue shade. Rose sighed and shook her head.  
  
"What about the color? Do you know what color it is?"  
  
Rose didn't answer but the pout on her face was answer enough.  
  
"Last one," Gwen assured her. "This picture. This man you drew… is he someone you know?"  
  
Rose bowed her head, nearly in tears, and Doctor strode forward. He'd seen enough. He couldn't watch another second.  
  
"Come on, Rose," the Doctor said as calmly as he could manage. "It's time for us to go."  
  
Rose was immediately startled out of sadness and thrown into confusion and panic.  
  
"Wait, no," Gwen pleaded as she got to her feet. "You don't understand yet."  
  
"I understand enough," the Doctor declared.  
  
"But you don't," Jack argued. "She's still smart. She still remembers everything. If you let her be, let her start talking, she can go on and on. She just can't… I don't know… access it. And can't retain new information."  
  
"And why is that, Jack?" the Doctor snapped. "Just who was it that fried her brain? Any sadness, any confusion she feels, that's  _your_  fault."  
  
"You think I don't know that?!"  
  
"Hush," Gwen ordered. "You're frightening her."  
  
"Come on, Rose," the Doctor said again, extending his hand and offering her a smile.  
  
Rose was wary of him. She didn't retain memory, but she did hold onto emotion. This man worried her. "I want to stay with her," Rose said quietly as she pointed at Gwen.  
  
"But you belong with me." The Doctor's voice was soft and he knelt down beside her so that she might find sincerity in his eyes. "The two of us together."  
  
He took the top two drawings off the stack and showed her the picture of the man she drew, holding it out beside him so that she might compare them. "This drawing looks a bit like me, don't you think? Same jacket. Same bowtie."  
  
Rose nodded in acknowledgment, but then looked at him quizzically. "But where's your…?" She pointed at the picture and motioned above her head.  
  
"My fez? Oh yes, I have a fez. It's in my wardrobe. You'll have to see. I'll bring it out if that's what you'd like."  
  
Rose still looked uncertain and glanced up at Gwen.  
  
"How about this picture again," the Doctor tried, showing her the picture of the TARDIS. "This is where we live, you and me. We travel, the two of us, and this is how we get around. It's called the TARDIS. Do you remember it?"  
  
Rose shook her head.  
  
"That's alright," he said with a sad smile. "You'll love it just the same. But… what if I asked you… When I say the word 'TARDIS', what the first thing you think of?"  
  
"Home." Rose's reply surprised even herself. The Doctor's smile brightened slightly.  
  
"Don't you think that's where you should be then? Home?" He tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and rose to his feet. After dusting off his knees, he offered her his hand again.  
  
Rose looked past him at Gwen. The Doctor made her feel hopeful, but Gwen still made her feel safe.  
  
"I love you, dear. I do," Gwen told her reassuringly, "but the Doctor's the one you belong with. If anyone can help you, it's him."  
  
"And I will, Rose. We'll get through this. We'll get you feeling right again," the Doctor assured her.  
  
Rose took a deep breath and let it out, settling her final decision. She took the Doctor's waiting hand and climbed to her feet.  
  
"That's my brave girl," the Doctor praised.  
  
"I'll grab the car," Jack offered, heading toward the door.  
  
The Doctor's hand landed on the doorknob first. "We'll take a cab."  
  
Jack stepped back, allowing the Doctor through. His eyes met Rose's one last time and he closed his eyes, turning his head in shame.  
  
"One thing, Doctor," Jack called down the hallway after them. "Can you fix it? Can you make her well?"  
  
The Doctor scowled at the man he once called his friend. "That's one thing you'll never know, Jack."


	2. Chapter 2

"Here we are," the Doctor announced as he led young Rose up to the large shipping crate in the center of the old factory. Rose looked down at the picture of the TARDIS and back up at the shipping crate in confusion. "You'll see," he assured her.

He pushed the door inward, revealing the console room of Rose's TARDIS. "This one's yours," he explained. "We'll find my TARDIS in the garden."

Though the concept would confuse others, it didn't seem unusual to her.

The Doctor led her through a maze of hallways and opened a door to a bright, sunny garden. There in the center stood the Doctor's TARDIS. Rose looked at her drawing again and back up at the blue police box. This time she nodded. When they came near enough, the Doctor snapped his fingers and the door swung open. Rose smiled up at him and he returned it, trying his best to keep his sadness hidden.

"So, does any of this look familiar?" he asked hopefully, looking around the bright control room.

Rose's fingers dropped away from the console and her smile fell as it always did when asked a question. Every question posed to her caused her to pause and frown.

"That's alright," he said reassuringly, lightly rubbing her back. "We'll get it all sorted. It'll just take some time. I have just one more question for you. What would you like to do now?"

It wasn't the sort of question she was expecting and she felt as lost as she did with all other questions.

"We could do something fun now, if you'd like. There's plenty to do here." The Doctor paused before making his next suggestion. "Or… we could get started on making you better."

Rose stared up at him in question. The idea filled her with hope and fear alike.

"I have some ideas on what's making you forget, or rather keeping you from remembering. If I could just get a peek at that brain of yours-"

"My brain?" she asked in panic. Her eyes darted to the door behind her.

"No, no, no, not a look inside. I'm not going to open you up," he hastened to explain, coming to kneel before her. "I'd never hurt you. I promise you that, Rose Tyler; I'd never hurt you. I meant a picture. Just a little video. I have a special machine that can take a picture of you and let me see the activity going on inside."

Rose eyed him dubiously and looked at the door again.

"It's just a little video. I promise. It'll last five minutes tops and it won't hurt a bit. It'll give me an idea on what we need to fix and get us one step closer to making you better. I know it's been a hard day for you already, but do you think you could let me take that picture really quickly?"

"You really think you can make me better?" she asked hopefully.

"I'll do everything I possibly can and more," he pledged solemnly.

Rose nodded in agreement and the Doctor climbed back to his feet. He took her by the hand again and smiled down warmly as he led her up one of the staircases and down the hall to the infirmary. The Doctor stopped in surprise the moment he entered. Everything was in place, but the room looked nothing like he'd left it. His cupboards and equipment had not moved, but the white walls had turned a soft pink color. A colorful border ran around the top of the room with an adorable line of bears, bunnies, frogs, and ducks. A painting of a rainbow with butterflies hung on the wall to his right. The exam table had been replaced with a small bed, covered in lavender sheets. The TARDIS had redecorated room for one very special patient. The Doctor patted the wall affectionately.

"Right," he said, leading Rose over to the bed. "All you have to do is lie here."

Rose toed off her shoes and climbed on obediently. The Doctor crossed the room and rummaged through a large cupboard until he found what it was he was looking for. When he looked back at the patient in the bed, he saw terrible fright that he'd managed to overlook when they entered the room. She was stiff as a board with her hands balled at her sides. Her chest rose and fell quickly and her lips were closed tightly to fight the pout that wanted to form.

"Oh, my brave Rose," he said gently. He set his gadget down on the floor, knelt at her bed, and took her hand. He leaned over her, holding her hand near his chest. "I've promised not to hurt you and I'll promise you again. This won't hurt at all. Why are you so frightened?"

Rose shrugged but the Doctor already knew the answer. 'Torchwood,' he thought angrily. Time and time again they hurt her. Would it ever stop? Even without her memories, the fear haunted her.

"You've no reason to fear. This room isn't for hurting; it's for making people better. That's what we'll do, Rose, but you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

A few tears sprang free, but Rose still nodded in consent. The Doctor raised his machine again, a white globe about the size of a basketball, and held it above her head. Rose squeezed her eyes shut.

"Now," the Doctor spoke in hushed tones. "I'm going to ask you a lot of different questions, but this time you don't have to answer a single thing, alright? Just hold still."

She had started to nod again but stopped at his instruction.

"Okay, Rose. How old are you?" The Doctor paused a moment between each question, but kept the questions flowing. "Where were you born? What's your favorite food? Which Christmas was the best? What does your mum look like? How do you take your tea?" The questions continued for nearly three minutes. When he stopped asking, Rose peeked open one eye. "Almost done," he assured her. Thirty seconds of silence, and the Doctor stepped back. "All done."

Rose peeked with one eye again. "You're done with that?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, that's it. Didn't I tell you that was all? Just a quick picture." The look on her face showed that, no, she didn't remember him telling her that. When she had opened her eyes, she didn't even know what he'd been doing.

The Doctor plopped down on as rolling stool and wheeled himself over to a large monitor in the center of the wall. Rose sat up in bed and watched him blankly.

"You can get up, if you'd like," he said with an encouraging smile. After searching through a mess of wires, he finally found the correct one and plugged it into the globe. A large circling image appeared on the screen, bright splotches of color moving about, grouping and separating seemingly at random.

"That, Rose Tyler, is your brain," the Doctor stated as the young girl came up behind him.

"My brain?"

"Yes, I just took a quick picture and this is what I found."

"It's colorful," she commented.

"That's just what the computer makes it look like. The colors show me where your mind is thinking when I ask you different questions. And this here is the problem: the colors are all over. Teeny flecks of color everywhere. That's not how it's supposed to work."

"You know what's wrong with me?" she asked anxiously.

"Yes." He watched the image again and used one of the dials this time to scan through the brain's many layers. "Your brain seems perfectly intact. No visible brain damage. The damage it did do was to your neural pathways. The synapses are firing, searching to retrieve information, but the paths that are supposed to lead them to each memory are either weak or broken."

"Sometimes I say stuff… stuff that doesn't make sense." She was playing with her fingers nervously, but glanced up at the Doctor, seeking explanation.

"Oh, you always make sense. You're as smart as ever," he reassured her. "It's those busy little synapses. They're still working hard on their recall missions and when your mind is at ease, they bring forth something they think is useful. It sounds like most times they come out at random. A few times they've gotten things right, but then they have a hard time finding that same information again the next time."

Rose wasn't sure she fully understood, but she understood enough to know that she wouldn't remember any of it the next time she tried. She had one question she needed answered before it all disappeared again. "Can you fix me?"

The Doctor sighed and stared down at the tips of his shoes. He wouldn't lie, not to her and not to himself. "I'm not sure yet. I'm not sure how badly the neural pathways are damaged. I have a feeling that I can strengthen them, but I'm not certain of it. If we  _can_  manage to strengthen them, it will give you access to more memories."

"I'd be okay again?"

"Better," he corrected, "but I really don't know if you'll be able to get  _everything_  back. We can hope though. We've been quite lucky in the past. Let's hold hope in that luck again."

Rose shook her head sadly. "I won't remember to hope."

"Hope isn't something you have to remember to do," the Doctor disagreed. "It's a feeling you hold in here." He poked her lightly on the chest and she smiled brightly.

"Thank you," she said with deep sincerity.

"Anything for you, Rose Tyler." He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her brow. "I'd do anything for you."

"So what happens now?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, we're going to start the process of strengthening those weak points. Today… well, we've got a little time before dinner, so I was thinking maybe a bit of ten-pin bowling. Do you know what that is?"

Rose frowned and shook her head. The Doctor saw her lose it. All that had just happened suddenly vanished somewhere deep in her mind. Their conversation was gone. He'd felt hopeful with how long she seemed to be keeping up, but one small question, one little prompt for a different memory, turned her into a blank slate once again. She was as lost as she'd been in Gwen's flat. He'd be much more careful about asking her questions in the future.

"Ten-pin bowling, you'll love it," he said with forced enthusiasm. "I'm a champ, myself, but I have a feeling you'll do quite well, too. You've an eye for it, you see. You seem to know just what that ball should do."

His energy had Rose smiling again and it stayed in place the whole time he rambled, all the way to the bowling room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but more to come soon.  
> My apologies to anyone annoyed or rolling their eyes at the 'science' of Rose's condition. I'm obviously clueless when it comes to how the brain functions. Let's just pretend that's how it works.


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor stood in the doorway of Rose’s room, her _old_ room, and watched as she slept peacefully. He wanted to be there when she awoke, afraid she might be confused or worried waking up in a different place. His experience with her so far told him that she probably wouldn’t be. It was something that bothered him greatly. This little girl questioned little to nothing. She simply accepted new faces and surroundings like there was nothing out of place. She questioned her condition, what was for dinner, and the rules of bowling, but she never wondered who he was, the size of the TARDIS, or anything else regarding her environment. It was so unlike his Rose. His Rose was always asking questions, important questions. Perhaps it was better that this little girl didn’t though. Trying to make sense of things could be terribly taxing on her already exhausted mind.

He wondered if she would remember any of the previous evening, but he didn’t raise his hopes too high. She had fun, something he was sure she hadn’t experienced in the past few days. She caught onto the game of bowling quickly, proving herself to be quite skilled, just as he’d suspected. It was proof of another of his theories; her motor memory was still intact. She could still draw, shuffle cards, and bowl a perfect strike.

The small body squirmed in the center of the large bed and the Doctor watched as she blinked awake. She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments and the Doctor wondered just what was running through blank but busy mind. When she turned toward the door, she showed no sign of fear or surprise, but no sign of recognition either.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” he greeted with a smile. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I just wanted to be here when you woke up. Didn’t want you getting lost. These halls can be a bit tricky to navigate.”

Rose nodded and sat up in bed, her little legs hanging over the side. He turned on the light and she squinted against the sudden brightness.

“I was thinking you might be a little hungry. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” she answered quietly.

“Alright then. Let’s head to the kitchen.” He waited for her to follow but she paused and looked down at herself uncertainly.

“I’m still in my pajamas.”

“Yes, you are. And you look lovely,” he commented, appraising her powder blue night dress. The TARDIS had picked well for her. It was a perfect fit. “You could get dressed now, if you’d like, but you’re welcome to wear your pajamas to breakfast. It’s what you usually do.”

A blank look crossed her face again. She’d tried to recall her past, to remember a time she ate breakfast in her night clothes, and lost everything completely. He’d have to watch that, too. He could say nothing that might make her try to remember.

The Doctor’s hearts sunk, but his smile stayed in place as he tried again. “So, breakfast, what do you think?”

Rose looked down at herself and back up at him. “But I’m still in my pajamas.”

“And you look lovely,” he repeated, earning him another small smile. “Why don’t you wear them to breakfast and you can get dressed later.”

Rose nodded and met him at the doorway. Her hand automatically found his and they walked together to the kitchen. It wasn’t hard to find, being situated quite close to her room, but he was sure she’d forget by their next meal.

“So, bacon, eggs, and beans on toast?” he suggested as Rose sat down at the table. Her answer, as usual, came in the form of a nod.

She was quiet and patient for a few minutes, but quite suddenly, she began talking. It came from nowhere, an anecdote that started in the middle of the story. It had taken the Doctor by surprise the night before, but this morning he was expecting it, hoping she would do it again. Throughout their entire time bowling, she regaled him with stories of her past: one of her mother’s birthdays, something funny that she and her friend Shareen did, giant porcupines handing out game consoles, and a werewolf after the queen. She didn’t remember a bit of it when the story was done. She wore a confused look, knowing that she spoke but unable to recall what she’d said. That part didn’t matter though, not to the Doctor. Each story was a memory she was able to access. The more he thought it through, the more confident he felt that each of those stories were ones he could help her get back.

“What now?” Rose asked, placing her fork on her empty plate.

“Well, I thought you might like to get dressed while I take care of the dishes. Then we could head to the infirmary. We’ll get started on repairing that beautiful mind of yours.”

“You can make me better?” she asked hopefully.

“I think I can.” He stroked her hair affectionately and guided her back to her room. There he showed her the closet, stocked full of clothes her size, set at just the right height. Leaving her alone to change, he returned to the kitchen as he said he would.

The Doctor finished putting away the clean plates and was turning to go retrieve Rose when he found her standing in the kitchen doorway. She found her way alone, which meant she still remembered through breakfast.

"Looks like you're all ready," he commented as he looked over her selected outfit. She wore a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt with flowers on it. Not a girl very interested in frilly things, his Rose.

"I'm ready," she answered quietly as she stared at the floor.

"Alright then. Off to the infirmary."

She froze again the moment they stepped into the room. Her eyes looked from one medical instrument to the next and the color drained from her face.

"You're okay here, Rose," the Doctor assured her again. She couldn't remember the promise he made her the day before, so the Doctor was on his knees again, making his promise again. She had no reason to fear him or anything he did.

She was silent as he led her to the little bed. She toed off her trainers and settled stiffly in place. Then Doctor collected a few items and returned to her side, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

"This is scary, Rose. I know that it is. What's worse is that it's going to get a bit scarier still." He spoke quietly, making his voice as soothing as possible. "What's going to happen now, I'm going to attach these little suction cups here to the sides of your head. Right at the temples. Right here." The Doctor had showed her two little white suction cups attached to a long pair of wires then lightly tapped her where he intended to place them. Rose flinched at his touch and a deep frown appeared on her face.

"What happens next, I'll turn on this little machine and it's going to send little signals into your brain."

Rose's bottom lip began to quiver.

"I won't hurt. I promise it won't hurt at all. It's just little sonic waves. Just a little noise. Music like. It'll be so quiet though that you won't even hear it. The only way you'll know it's working is that you'll feel some vibration. Just a little buzzing sensation where the suction cups are touching. It's scary. So scary. But I'm going to ask you to be brave. Can you do that? Can you be brave for me?"

"I...I think so," she answered weakly.

"That a girl. Would it help if I held your hand?"

Rose quickly nodded.

"That's what I'll do then. Just let me get this set up and we'll get started."

Rose didn't move a muscle as the Doctor worked. Tears were gathering in her eyes and the Doctor did his best to ignore them while he set up.

"Just a bit of gel to get these to stick. Little bit cold."

He was extremely gentle as he placed them but she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, like each delicate touched caused her great pain. It took him no more than a minute, but by the time he finished, tears were streaming down the sides of her face, little droplets falling into her ears. The Doctor wiped them away, but they were quickly replaced with more. His hearts ached but he did his best to keep his composure.

The Doctor sat at her side again and immediately took her small hand. She squeezed it tightly, holding on desperately and with all the faith that she could muster.

"I'm going to turn it on now. No pain. Just a little buzzing."

With his free hand, he flipped a single switch on the small box that lay above their joined hands. Her response was instant. Absolute panic. Her breaths were fast and deep, working toward hyperventilation. Her already hard grip on him, squeezed tighter. The Doctor shushed her in a soothing manner and stroked her cheek, trying his best to calm her.

"Is it done? Make it stop. Please make it stop," she pleaded.

"It needs time. It's going to be a little while yet. You need to calm down though, love. It's okay. It's really okay. You're just fine."

She tried her best to slow her breathing but her body still trembled and the tears came fast.

"How about this? How about I tell you a story?" he offered. "Will that help?"

She didn't answer, but stared at him with a desperate plea for help.

"Once upon a time," he started softly, "there was a sad young woman. She wasn't always sad. She was once a very happy little girl. She lived with her dad who loved her very much. One day though, he got married. Married to a woman who wasn't very nice at all..."

The Doctor proceeded to tell her the story of Cinderella. At first it seemed to make no difference, but after a few minutes Rose began to calm. After a few minutes more, her tears stopped and her breathing was almost at a normal rate. Her body was still rigid and her grip on his hand was still firm, but her distress had lessened significantly.

The Doctor flicked the switch off without warning and Rose started. "All done," he said with a reassuring smile.

She glanced at the box and back up at the Doctor who was then on his feet. "All done?"

"All done," he repeated. Hesitantly, she released her hold on his hand.

"Is that the end?" she asked uncertainly.

"All done," he repeated once more.

"No, the story," Rose clarified. "She lost her shoe and just ran away?"

The Doctor chuckled. It seemed she was more enthralled by the story than he’d originally thought. "No, that's not the end. Do you want me to tell you the rest?"

Rose nodded and he continued the story as he moved about the room.

"And they lived happily ever after," he concluded as he returned to her.

"Is that real?" she asked.

The Doctor carefully removed the cups and wires and wiped away the gel with a wet cloth. "No, it's just a story. Just a little fairytale."

"Not the story. 'Happily ever after'. Is that real? Can people really have those?"

"Well," he said, pausing to think about it for a moment. "Most people don't think so. After all, no one can be happy all the time. But I think that if a person lives out their days with more happy times than sad times, that's sort of a happily ever after."

"What about you?"

"Me?" he asked in surprise. He took another short moment to think it through. "I've had many sad times in my life, but I've had a lot of happy times, too. You, Rose Tyler, you make me very happy. I'm very sad that you're suffering, but I'm still very blessed to have you here with me."

"I make you happy?"

"Very, love. Very ,very." The Doctor leaned down and placed a kiss to her forehead. "You were very brave just now. You know that? I'm very proud of you."

Rose shook her head. "I was scared."

"Of course you were, but that's just the thing - the more frightened you are, the more bravery it takes to get through it. You're as brave as they come."

"So when will I be better?" she asked, finally sitting up in bed.

The Doctor was at another cupboard and paused. "It'll take some time, but we'll get there." He didn't have the heart to tell her that the process was just beginning. It would take several more rounds of treatment. But he needn't worry her with that yet. When the next round came, she wouldn't remember that she experienced it before. It would be the first time for her all over again.

"Alright, just one more thing and we can leave this room behind," he announced with his smile back in place. "No need to look worried. This is as easy as it gets. A patch. Just a little sticker."

He held up a tan circular patch and plopped down on the foot of the bed. "It goes right here," he said. He peeled it off the plastic sheet and placed it on her forearm, just below her elbow. "That easy."

"What does it do?"

"It's got a chemical mix made specially to give your brain a healthy little boost."

Rose's brow scrunched and she squeezed her eyes shut. The Doctor immediately started to worry. The patch should have no ill effects. He made it himself. He spent more than half the night studying human biology texts and medical advances in brain treatments from all over the universe. He couldn't have been more careful as he put the treatment together.

"My head hurts," Rose complained. "And... and the lights are too bright."

It occurred to him then, something he should have anticipated from the start. "That'd be the sonic treatment. It's causing your brain to swell a bit from overstimulation. It's causing your head to ache and make you a bit more sensitive to light. Not to worry though, I've got just the thing."

He returned with another patch, this time a clear rectangular strip with a tiny blue tag at the end. "Another sticker. This one goes right across your forehead."

She looked at it with distaste. "It'll make me look silly."

"It's clear. Hardly even visible."

Rose pointed at the little blue tag.

"That's just so we can pull it off easy," he explained.

"I'll look silly," she repeated.

"There's no one around but me. I won't think it's silly. It'll just make me think about you getting well."

Another sharp twinge of pain throbbed in her head and Rose agreed, donning the silly patch.

"What happens now?" Rose asked, desperate to leave the room.

"Well," the Doctor said with a frown. "I'd love for us to do something fun, but I've got some work I have to do today. I've got a project I'm working on."

"So what will _I_ do?"

The Doctor considered it a moment and caught himself just before he said the wrong thing. He nearly reminded her that she was coloring at Gwen's house, something that would make her try her memories. His next attempt could have been just bad, asking if she liked to draw. She might try to search her memory for that, too.

"You know, I bet you like art," he stated. "I'll get you some paints and paper and you can have some fun with that while I keep my boring stuff to myself."

Rose nodded her approval and followed the Doctor around as he collected an arm load of items and finally led them to a large, brightly lit workshop. The left half of the room was dedicated to wall-to-wall shelves, filled with bits and bobs, and boxes filled with smaller, more numerous bits and bob. Many hooks hung from the long wall in front of them, each hook holding an odd-looking gadget, most of them appearing to be unfinished projects. The right side of the room was lined by bright orange countertops. A few wheeled stools stood at odd places in the middle, the user having never pushed them back into place.

"This is it," the Doctor announced. "My workshop."

"The counters are really bright," Rose commented.

"Purposely. That way, if I drop something small on it, I have an easier time finding it. Most of the parts I use are dark colors and stand out against the orange. Besides, it brightens this place up."

The Doctor moved to the right side of the room and placed Rose's paint set on the counter, a difficult task considering how full his hands were. Moving to the counter on the opposite wall, he relieved himself of the rest of the burden.

"Is that a gun?" Rose worried as she eyed the large object he'd just put down. Of all things she might remember, she had to remember what a gun was.

"A gun? No! Well, yes, but no. It's not the kind of gun that hurts people. It does... other stuff," he explained quite vaguely.

"Like what?" she asked skeptically.

The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as the thought of another vague answer to provide. "It's something used by scientists. It makes things smaller."

"A shrink gun?"

"Something like that. But that's for me to worry about." The Doctor placed his hand on her back and gently, but insistently, guided her to her paints. He quickly grabbed one of the stools and wheeled it over to her. "Now, as I said, this is a workshop, which means we have work to do. Your job is simply to make some lovely pictures. This ship, beautiful as it is, could use a bit more color. Once we've both finished up, we can hang them on the walls."

"What do I paint?"

"Whatever you'd like." The Doctor leaned over and kissed the top of her head. Turning away, he frowned. Now he had to get to his own work - to find a way to fix Rose's other problem, a problem she was currently unaware of.

He stood rooted on spot, eyeing his project from a distance. The longer he stared at the gun, he more upset he became. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to rid himself of the anger he felt. Being upset with Rose would do nothing to help him. After taking a deep calming breath, he opened his eyes and took a seat in front of it.

The gun was quite large, nearly as long as his arm. It must have taken some awkward maneuvering for Rose to turn it on herself. His anger began burning again. It was a dangerous move. She had no way of knowing if it was in working order or just what kind of effects it might have on her. It was reckless. The whole plan of hers was reckless. It must have seemed like such a simple plan to her. She regresses her age and takes the place of the potential human sacrifice. 'I won't die. I promise.' She was stupid testing her life like that. She had close calls with regeneration in the past, but she was by no means familiar with it. And neither of them knew just how many regenerations she'd get. When she said she wouldn't die, did she actually mean to regenerate? Was that an actual part of her plan? She should have called him. He would have answered for her. He might ignore some calls, but he'd drop anything for her. She knew that.

He tried again to calm himself. She was suffering now from those choices, choices she no longer remembered making. He couldn't be angry with her. Missing her the way that he did, he could only long for her restoration. No, if his anger should be aimed anywhere, it was at Jack. It was his choice, too. He used her. He tortured her. He destroyed her.

He was seething now. He was getting nowhere. He couldn't change what happened. He could only fix that which was done.

Pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, he began disassembling the gun.

'It makes things smaller,' he had told young Rose. It was a half-truth. Things did get small once the trigger was pulled, but that was because its purpose was making things younger. It was originally created by scientists on Blasphon to rejuvenate orchards. The trees were dying from a terrible drought that had hit them planet-wide. The rains had returned, but the trees were beyond help, and waiting for new trees to grow was not an option. The people would die of starvation before the plants were mature enough to bear fruit. The rejuvenating gun was their answer. They regressed the age of the trees to a point where they could again produce fruit. It was genius. A most brilliant solution to their problem.

But, like all good pieces of technology, it could be tempered with and turned into something dangerous. Once it proved so successful on plants, they tinkered with it further, aiming to use it on themselves. Long life was something that most species strived for, but methods such as that rarely ended well. They could never calibrate it properly. Some people hardly altered at all while others reverted to infancy. Only weeks after they began using it, the workforce was down by half. Some people were then too young to work, and others were forced to stay home and care for their infant mothers or child husbands. Each person was so excited to gamble their own life they coldly ignored what it was costing the people around them. The planet was failing and it was beyond the Doctor's help. In the end, the only thing he could do was alert the Blasphon colonies that were scattered through the galaxy and ask them to assist their home planet. Their responses made him hopeful, but he never went back to check on them.

The gun in his possession, he took out of curiosity. He meant to have a look at it, to figure out how it worked. Its secrets could perhaps help him in the future. Never on a living being, but plants - that could be beneficial. They had taken Rose's TARDIS to Blasphon and the gun never made it to his own TARDIS. It got tucked away in a closet, forgotten for over a year. But Rose, in her panic and desperation, must have instantly thought of it.

"Erm... Mister?" Rose tugged on his shirt sleeve to gain his attention. "I'm... I'm a bit hungry. Will we eat soon?"

The Doctor blinked his strained eyes and looked down at his wristwatch. It didn't tell Earth time, but 'Rose time'. Earth time meant nothing in the time vortex, but Rose meant everything. He set his watch around her sleep schedule. She awoke at seven and it was then... "One-thirty?"

He looked at the gun and was surprised at how much he had accomplished. Lost in his thoughts and his work, he'd lost track of time. "Yes, definitely time for lunch," he affirmed, putting his smile back in place. "You must be starving."

"I am kind of," she admitted. "But do you want to see first?"

Rose took his hand before he could answer and guided him over to her own little work section. He expected, for a moment, to find a long line of child's paintings, but one glance across the room had reminded him that her talents were not limited to her approximate age. Her talent would still be that of the Rose he knew. Only two paintings lay on the counter. In the few hours they spent there, she had put such great effort into her work that she accomplished only two. Standing over them, he was taken aback by their beauty. One was a scene of the two of them, the silhouette of a couple holding hands, standing among large, frozen, ocean waves. Woman Wept, a planet, a trip, that she treasured always. The other painting was a portrait of her mother, Jackie Tyler. She was aged in the portrait, but it was so well done that he had no problem recognizing her.

"So what do you think?" Rose asked cheerfully, obviously quite pleased with herself.

"Beautiful. Absolutely incredible, Rose Tyler," he said sincerely. "You're a very talented artist."

He wanted to ask her about the picture of her mother, if she knew the woman, but he knew better than that. Their day was going alright so far and he wasn't ready to start over, not ready for her to forget everything again. It was more than likely she didn't remember who the woman was. It was just a painting, an image she didn't question.

"She's kind of pretty, don't you think?" she asked.

"I think you captured her well. She looks very thoughtful and kind."

"Yeah, she does, doesn't she?"

"Enough of paintings for now though. What do you say to jam sarnies and some carrots?"

"And juice?" Rose walked along beside him with a little skip in her step.

"And juice," he agreed. "Tell you what. We can even pack it up, make it a little picnic in one of the gardens. Oh! The butterfly room. That's a garden you'll love."

Young Rose wore the largest smile he'd seen yet. He'd hold on to it, he decided. And he'd strive for it always. She'd forget again, probably before the day was through. That grin would return to a hopeless frown. He’d keep trying for it though. He hoped to put her to bed that night with a smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day was nearly identical in every way. Some of the conversations were even repeated word for word. The Doctor was there when Rose awoke and he convinced her again to wear her night clothes to breakfast. She told him a story that morning of a turquoise sunset over purple sands. She spoke of how the Doctor kissed her and the people around them were outraged, offended but such intimacy in a public place. The Doctor kept his smile in place even through the pain. The little girl across from him had no idea that the Doctor in the story was sitting across from her or that she was once the grown woman in the story. She forgot every word she spoke by the time she finished.

The treatment in the infirmary was just as difficult as the day before. She stopped in the doorway and the Doctor was back on his knees, renewing his promise not to hurt her. Once the treatment started, she cried and gasped for breath, pleading again for him to stop. He told her the tale of Rapunzel that time and was glad when she didn't ask again whether he believed in happily ever after. The heartbreak of repeating the previous day and not knowing how many more times he'd have to do it... If this was his 'ever after'... He shook himself from that train of thought. He told Rose to hope and that's what he'd do, too.

He explained the patches again as he replaced the ones on her arm and forehead. She said nothing of how the patch on her head would make her look. She simply accepted it as she did most everything else.

He led her to the workshop and set her up with paints again. He'd hidden her pictures from the day before in case she questioned them. He had originally worried about her becoming bored of painting, but it was new to her today. He knew he was allowing himself to get too upset and discouraged, but he felt so helpless. He was doing the best he could, but he'd never been very good at waiting for results. And he'd never been good at sitting quietly while Rose suffered.

He was able to calm himself through his work on the rejuvenating gun. He finished disassembling it after just an hour and began taking notes on the individual parts. He had no problem remembering where everything went, but it was now time to catalog exact dimensions, materials, and power. As soon as he finished the reverse engineering, he could begin altering it.

He was sure to check his watch from time to time and he set his pen down at exactly noon. Rose started in surprise when he stepped up beside her. She only had time to finish one painting that day. The other would remain unfinished, because she wouldn't remember it the next day. It didn't bother her though. She was skipping through the halls again without a care. The Doctor smiled with her.

The afternoon was easier than the morning, both of them having put the infirmary behind them. The two of them spent the next couple hours playing mini-golf. The Doctor won, of course, but Rose wasn't far behind.

It wasn't until dinner that the surprise had come.

Rose watched the Doctor's every move as he cooked. She looked curious, but never questioned. When she didn't start talking, rattling off another random story, he realized just how interested she was. He then began explaining what he was doing. He held up the ingredients and named them for her, even giving a brief history on couple of them.

"Can I help?" she asked hopefully.

"Well, there's not really anything left to do at this point," he answered apologetically. "Perhaps you can grab a serving bowl for me? Up in that cupboard."

Rose opened the tall cupboard and huffed in frustration. "It's too high up."

"Just stand on a chair then. Mind you don't fall."

Rose moved the kitchen chair and hopped up. "Things like this were easier when I was bigger."

The Doctor dropped the spoon in the pot and whirled around to look at her. She stood frozen in place on top the chair, serving bowl clutched in her hands, and stared out with a puzzled look on her face. Her gazed turned to him. She looked utterly bewildered.

"I used to be bigger... I was bigger but now I'm small. It's not supposed to go like that..."

"You remember? You remember being big?" the Doctor asked hopefully.

She lost it instantly. The blank look was back. She was standing on a kitchen chair with a bowl in her hand, having no idea what she was doing there, and she didn't question it. He wanted to go over to her, taken hold of her and beg her to remember again. Instead, he smiled and politely asked for the bowl.

"And there we go, Rose Tyler," he said as he placed the filled bowl on the table. "Pesto pasta. Farfalle. See? Shaped like little bowties."

Rose smiled at him uncertainly. The meal was taken quietly. The Doctor wasn't really sure what to say. They could no longer discuss the events of the day, and as their nighttime routine would start shortly, he couldn't give her much to look forward to.

He was lost in thought. She had remembered, _genuinely_ remembered being grown. And she wondered. She questioned why she was now small. It was a small step but at the same time, it was a monumental occasion. It meant that the treatments were working.

"Finished?" he asked. She hadn't cleared her plate, but had been pushing the remains around with her fork. She nodded and stood when he did. She seemed distant, he thought, but she still reached automatically for his hand when he approached her. "Bath time," he announced.

The Doctor escorted her back to her room and opened the double doors of her closet. Upon instruction, Rose stepped up to the clothing rack and began selecting a pair of pajamas. She looked at each selection a few times with a look of indecision.

"Tough choice," he acknowledged.

Rose nodded. "I like them all."

"That's the TARDIS. She knows just what you like. Smartest ship in all of time and space," he bragged as he patted the wall.

"Mine might still be young, but she's just as clever," Rose argued.

The Doctor took a step back and blinked at her in disbelief. Her response was accompanied by a casual shrug. She didn't even look up from what she was doing.

"I think this one," she said as she turned to him and held up a purple camisole and matching bottoms.

The Doctor nodded and uttered quiet "good choice". He was still staring at her bewildered as he took the outfit from her, but he quickly shook himself from that state.

"Don't forget some knickers."

Rose reached in the drawer without having to ask which one. He took them from her when they were offered and headed for her private bathroom. He folded her clothing neatly and placed them on a small table, then hung a large fluffy towel on the hook by the bath. He scrubbed his hand down his face as he tried to think, but he was overwhelmed.

"Bath's all set," he announced when he reentered the bedroom. "The water's a bit deep, so be careful. Be sure to wash everywhere and take care to wash all the suds out of your hair."

Rose huffed a small sigh. Was that exasperation?

"I'll be out here when you’re done," he told her as she disappeared behind the door. As soon as the door clicked shut, he plopped down on the edge of the bed.

She'd remembered her TARDIS. Whether or not she realized what she'd said, he wasn't sure, but it wasn't a story like she often spouted out; it was an argument. He'd never been so thrilled to receive an argument in his life. And exasperation? That was the third evening he repeated those same warnings and instructions, but it should have been like the first time for her. He had been assuming that she would remember nothing at all from the days before, but perhaps there were pieces she could remember. He couldn't ask her though. He'd have to live on guesses for now. It didn't matter. His Rose was making a reappearance, little by little. The treatments were working.

"Okay," Rose said, announcing herself as she stood in the bathroom doorway. Her pajamas clung to her wet skin, having not dried off well before dressing, and her hair was still wet and dripping, but the Doctor beamed at her like she was the most beautiful creature in all of creation.

He was about to offer to brush her hair for her, an offer he made every evening, but instead, he simply handed her the brush. If she didn't want be coddled, he'd back off a bit. Tucking her in was a different matter though. He wasn't leaving until he had her snug in her bed.

When Rose had finished with her hair, the Doctor turned down the blankets. She smiled up at him warmly and climbed into bed. Once she was in place, he pulled the blankets back up and knelt by the bed.

"Beautiful Rose," he said softly as he stroked her cheek. "You were brilliant today. But you're brilliant every day. This is the part where I leave you for the night, but I want you to do one thing for me, alright? Just one thing... dream only the sweetest dreams. That’s what you deserve."

He smiled at her and laid a firm kiss upon her head. As he moved to stand though, she took hold of his arm, holding him in place.

"Are you my dad?"

The Doctor was startled by the question, not because of who she guessed him to be, but because she wondered about who he was for the first time.

"No," he replied kindly, brushing her hair back from her face. "I'm the Doctor."

She continued to stare up at him with curiosity. Beautiful, wonderful curiosity. She was questioning things. Using her mind to make deductions, even though the accessible information she had to work with was so very little.

"But you take care of me," she stated in confusion.

"That, Rose Tyler, is because I love you very, _very_ much." He gave her forehead another endearing kiss and got to his feet. "Sleep well."

He turned off her light, closed the door behind him, and slumped against the wall. There was so much to think about, so much to do, but he allowed himself just another moment to breathe in relief. Things were going to get better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but the next is much longer and coming soon.


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor strolled down the hall while absently but expertly doing up his bowtie. He was en route to his study to collect his notes and was already starting new calculations in his mind. He’d been so involved with them through the night that even when he was in bed, numbers and figures flashed in his dreams. He was in such deep concentration that he didn’t notice Rose until he had almost passed her.

“Rose? What are you doing up so early?”

The little girl looked around nervously and began twisting the hem of her camisole around her finger. “I fell out of bed,” she explained. “I was bit hungry… I thought…”

“Oh, you’re not in trouble,” he assured her. “I just didn’t expect you up for another hour or so. I would have been there otherwise. You have to be careful wandering the halls. It’s very easy to get lost.”

Rose nodded in understanding but still looked unsure if she had done something wrong.

“Looks like you found the kitchen alright though. Ready for breakfast?”

She was comforted by his smile and returned it with one of her own.

“So, Rose Tyler, what’ll be this morning? Eggs and sausage? Toast with jam? Pancakes? Cereal?”

“What kind of cereal do you have?”

The Doctor grinned brightly and placed six boxes of cereal on the table. Her eyes widened at the number of choices. Most had funny cartoon mascots while others were covered with bold text that boasted health benefits. Rose looked at them all with the same look of indecision she had given her night clothes.

“Would it be easier to choose two? After you finish one bowl, you’re welcome to another,” the Doctor suggested. “Or you could mix two of them together.”

Rose was able to make her decision much easier then, selecting one with brightly colored circles and another with a variety of little marshmallows. “If only it was like that with clothes,” she commented.

The Doctor chuckled. “Is that why girls like to layer their outfits?”

“That’s not just wearin’ all your favorites; that’s fashion,” she corrected. “Not everyone likes to choose their clothes in the dark.”

The Doctor gaped at her. It was an obvious, snarky dig at him, but she said it casually rather than playfully, like she was still focused on other thoughts. She looked up at him like she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary and waited patiently yet expectantly.

“Bowl. Right.” Back on track, he fetched her a bowl and spoon. When he came back with the milk, she was already filling the bowl, almost to the brim, with the second cereal. There was little room left for milk, but she didn’t seem to mind. She shoveled it down quickly, and poured herself another bowl.

“Hungry this morning?” he laughed.

“Sort of. It’s just that I don’t remember eating dinner.”

“Well, I assure you that I feed you at every meal.”

“Yeah, but maybe if I have more of it, I can remember it,” she said, revealing her little plan. It was a funny sort of logic, but he was proud that she was thinking about it.

Her spoon clinked at the bottom of her empty bowl and she looked up at him with a hopeful smile. “So what are we doing today?”

“Well, now we go to the infirmary.” He tried his best to hold his smile, but wasn’t sure that it was a convincing one. It was the worst part of every day, every moment of it heartbreaking.

Rose paused in the doorway as she always did and the Doctor was on his knees, swearing his promises to her again. Once in the little bed, she closed her eyes, taking slow deep breaths. She kept them shut through his entire explanation of the procedure. She nodded her understanding in the right places, but it seemed like she was almost blocking him out. Her hands gripped the bed sheets as he placed the suction cups, but as soon as he sat back down on the bed, he found that one little hand had released the sheets and was waiting for his expectantly. He didn’t know if she had any _memory_ of the procedure, but she was at least somewhat familiar with what was happening. Something new was going through that head of hers.

“Now what story shall I tell you today?” he wondered aloud while turning on the machine. Rose’s hand squeezed his tightly and the tears still came, but she continued her slow deep breathing, keeping as relaxed as she possibly could.

“Ah, I know. I could tell you about sleeping beauty.” The Doctor stuck to the fairy tale version, unsure whether she was ready to hear how the events truly took place. Her measured breathing continued through the entire treatment and she sighed with relief when it was done. The Doctor continued the story until it was finished and Rose sat up in bed to watch him as he put things away.

“Do you believe in that?” she asked. “’Happily ever after’?”

The treatment had gone so much better than the previous two days and he was so much more hopeful of her recovery, that he was actually cheerful when he returned with the patches.

“What I _know_ , Rose Tyler, is that you’re what makes me happy. So you’d better stick with me for ‘ever after’.”

She laughed and beamed at his response.

“There now,” he said enthusiastically as he tossed the old patches in the bin. “Shall we head to the workshop?”

Rose shrugged, lacking his enthusiasm, and followed after.

“So, painting?” he asked. It was quite clear by the look on her face she would if she had to, but it would be a bit grudgingly. It pleased him. If she was bored with it, then she had to have some recollection of doing it previously. “Not a problem. I could get you some playing cards or clay or little figurines to play with. All of the above? Something else?”

Rose shrugged, still looking dissatisfied by the options. “Can’t we do something fun?”

“I’m sorry, but I really have some work that I have to do. We can do something later, but for now…” He tried his best to think of something else to suggest.

“Can I look around?” she asked tentatively.

“The TARDIS?” he asked in surprise. She nodded, looking hopeful, but was already expecting to be told ‘no’.

The Doctor was torn and rubbed the back of his neck as he considered the matter. “I just don’t want you getting lost or finding things you shouldn’t.”

Rose sighed and nodded in defeat.

“But hold on now,” he insisted as a new idea came to him. “You wait right here and I’ll be back in a minute.”

He returned a few moments later, wheeling in a large spool of thin red cable. Rose stared at him like he’d gone mad.

“Simple solution found,” he announced with pride. “As simple as it gets. We just attach this end to your belt loop and you’ll be able to wander without getting lost.”

“A leash,” she said in disbelief. Now, she was sure he’d lost it.

“Simple solution,” he repeated. “You’ll be able to find your way back and I’ll be able to find you if I need to.”

“How will I be able to do anything if I’m attached to _that_?” Her distaste couldn’t be more evident.

The Doctor huffed at the lack of appreciation for his ingenious idea. “I know it might be a bit cumbersome, but there’s still loads you can do. You can give yourself as much slack as you need. It’s your choice, but it’s either this or staying in here with me.”

Rose huffed in annoyance, but nodded in agreement. She crossed her arms over her chest while the Doctor bent over and clipped the wire to her belt loop.

“Now listen to me,” he said sternly. “You do not take that off and if it comes undone, you follow it straight back here so I can put it back on.”

She was too annoyed and indignant about the matter to look at him, but still nodded.

“Here, let me show you to some rooms that might interest you.”

Rose didn’t take his hand when they walked, keeping her arms crossed. The Doctor didn’t seem affected by it though. He seemed too busy to even notice. Every few doors, he had his sonic screwdriver out, locking the more dangerous ones, including the swimming pool. “This area is the sort of recreational section of the TARDIS. There are pool tables, dart boards (mind the darts), a court for nearly any sport you can imagine, bowling alley, and mini-golf. There are a couple more gardens up the way. Anyway… have some fun.”

Though she was obviously intrigued by the many things he’d listed, she was still sulking, tugging at her wire as she began moving toward the first door.

Satisfied with their system, the Doctor returned to the workshop and sat down to continue his work on the rejuvenating gun, or as he was now thinking of it – the restoration gun. As focused as he was on his project, he still kept a close eye on the spool where it turned round at a slow, almost constant rate. After a couple of hours of work, he decided that it was probably best that he leave it for the day and go check on Rose.

He followed the line down the corridor to a smaller hall, one of the only corridors that dead-ended. It was the hall dedicated just to sports, a sizable collection of courts and arenas. A handful of doors were left open and a basketball lay abandoned in the middle of the hallway. He followed the red cable to the tennis courts and paused to watch Rose. She clutched the yellow tennis ball hand, stared at it a moment, and then threw it with great force to the other side of the room.

“Having fun?” he asked.

A deep scowl was what he expected when she turned around and he was not disappointed.

“It’s a stupid game,” she grumbled moodily as she kicked the racket at her feet. Of every game she’d ever played, Rose hated tennis the most. It amused the Doctor to see that it was still true for her.

“I hope you still had fun with other games.”

Rose sighed, letting go of her frustration. “Yeah, I guess. It’s not very much fun by yourself though.”

“Well, I’m done with my work for the day, so why don’t we go get some lunch and then do something together?” He offered her his best smile and she managed a small one in return, still sulking slightly about her lack of skill in tennis. The Doctor unclipped her wire, rubbed her back consolingly, and led her back through the corridors. On the way he wound the wire and unlocked the doors he’d sealed earlier. As they passed the workshop, he tossed the cable through the door to deal with later.

Over lunch, she told him about some of the things she’d seen and asked about ones that she didn’t understand. When she asked about the green table with holes in the sides and brightly colored balls on top, they had decided what they were going to do after lunch. He’d teach her to play pool. It turned out to be a bit tricky for her because of her height, but she still enjoyed it enough to challenge him to a second game.

“So what do we do _now_?” Rose asked as she put her cue back on the rack. It seemed to be the eternal question for her. But in all the time he’d known her, when was she not excited about what came next?

“Plenty of things to do, but I’m open to suggestions if you have any.” He waited hopefully to see if there was anything new she remembered.

“Can we go outside?” she inquired.

“Of course! I know the perfect garden even! Come along, Rose Tyler. More fun to be had.”

When the Doctor opened the door, Rose’s face lit up with delight. She looked up at him for permission and his approving smile was all she needed. She bolted across the little field and didn’t slow down until her feet were on the bottom rung of the tallest slide’s ladder. It was his biggest reminder yet that she really was just a child. There were a few times that she spoke with maturity he hadn’t expected and a couple times that she was so comfortable with him that she seemed to be his old Rose, but she truly was just a child.

It brought him immeasurable joy to witness her excitement as she flew around the playground, but it made him miss his Rose, the real Rose.  His Rose’s companionship was like no other. ‘Hope and Glory, Mutt and Jeff, Shiver and Shake,’ he’d once told her, but nothing was ever as perfect as the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

He watched the little girl as she played. She was a great, big ball of energy, not pausing once to catch her breath as she tried everything the playground had to offer. He wondered how Jackie Tyler ever kept up.

He watched from a distance for a time, but then took a seat on one of the swings. He became slightly anxious when she began playing on the chin-up bars. She chose the one she could barely reach and hauled herself up to sit on top of it. There she began flipping round and round, forward and backward with great skill. A paternal instinct rose up in him, urging him to dissuade her for fear she’d get hurt, but he kept his mouth shut.

‘Jericho Street Junior School Under Sevens Gymnastic Team - I got the Bronze!’ she’d declared on their first adventure. And just ten years ago, she began toying with gymnastics again in the TARDIS’s Olympic training room. It took a lot of practice, but she became an amazing gymnast. Her favorite was the uneven bars. Her display on this playground was more proof that her little body somehow hadn’t lost its talents. It was great relief, for she had honed many new skills in the decades she’d traveled with him. When she was eventually restored, she’d be crushed if she had to relearn it all.

“It’s just you and me here, isn’t it?” Rose asked as she joined him on the swings.

“Yep. Just the two of us,” he affirmed.

“So why do you have this place? If I was bigger before, why would we need a playground?”

‘Bigger before,’ the Doctor repeated the thought in his mind. She remembered it again.

“Oh, you never know when you might need one.”

“You’ve had kids here before?”

“No, not really. Had a couple of stowaways over the centuries, but took them right back. Ended up caring for a few children before finding them new homes, but they were never here more than a day.” Each time, that had been Rose. A child here or there, orphaned by disaster. She had them in the TARDIS before he could even open his mouth to protest. “This playground has never been used more than twice in all the time that I’ve had this ship, but as I said, you never know when you might need it.”

“So why isn’t it rusty or dusty?”

“Oh, that’s the TARDIS. She’s very good at keeping everything in good condition,” he said with pride, knowing that the ship understood his every praise.

“The TARDIS is a spaceship, right?”

“Right.”

“And a time machine?”

The Doctor was positively beaming as she remembered those two facts. “Indeed, she is.”

“So where and when are we?” she asked with blessed curiosity.

"Well, at the moment, we're not anywhere or any when." At Rose's look of confusion, he clarified. "Sorry, when I say that, I mean that we're in the time vortex. It's a place outside of time and space. A great big tunnel that goes everywhere and nowhere. We just float along through it until we decide it's time for a stop."

When he looked at her, comprehension dawned. "When you asked to go outside, you didn't mean a garden, did you? You want to go outside the TARDIS."

She nodded and waited with bated breath for the answer to her request.

"Of course we can go out. Why just sit around here when there's so much out there?"

"Really?" she said eagerly.

"Of course! How about dinner? We'll go out to eat tonight?" he suggested.

"Is it dinnertime now?" she asked hopefully.

"It is." He grinned widely, so very pleased by her enthusiasm.

Rose hopped up from her swing with excitement and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. He didn't need persuading though. He gave her hand a little squeeze and jogged for the door.

"So, Rose Tyler," he asked as they ran toward the control room, "where is it you'd like to go?"

"Anywhere!" she laughed gleefully.

"Alright." He stopped when he reached the controls and turned to face her. "Busy or somewhere a bit more quiet?"

"Busy," she said without hesitation.

"Okay. Aliens or human population?"

"Aliens!"

"Good choice. Diversity. That's the way to go. Now let me think..." The Doctor steepled his fingers and brought them to his lips as he considered the near infinite possibilities. "I've got it! The Prosnar Space Station in the Frobix galaxy. Bustling streets lined with shops and restaurants and the perfect little corner bistro. What do you say?"

"Brilliant!"

"Off we go then." He was quick on the controls and, in seconds, the TARDIS was settling them at their desired location. "And we're here."

Rose was giddy with excitement but was also buzzing with nervous energy.

"Ready?" he asked with concern when she didn't move from her spot.

She nodded slowly, stepped forward, and took his hand. They were nearly at the door when she stopped suddenly.

"Second thoughts?" he asked her gently.

"No, I just thought about it... Can I take this thing off my head first?" She rubbed a finger over the patch on her forehead. She hadn't said anything about it since the first time he put it on her, but she was self-conscious of it again.

"I'm sorry, but we can't do that. Your head will start aching very badly again." He rubbed her back consolingly. "It's not so bad though, is it? It's clear. You can hardly even notice it."

"But the colored bit," she said, flicking the small blue tag that allowed for easy removal.

"No one will think a thing of it," he assured her.

She fidgeted with her fingers as she anxiously deliberated the problem. He could see that she was seriously having second thoughts about the trip.

"I've got the perfect idea. You wait just a second." The Doctor hurried down the stairs and Rose could see him beneath the console through the clear flooring. He was digging through a little storage chest, removing the most random items: a rubber duck, a spatula, a ball of yarn. He paused a second to examine the toothbrush he found, but quickly returned to his search. "Ah ha! Knew I had some in here." He hurried up the stairs and thrust a sheet of stickers into her hands. "If anyone's going to look silly tonight, it's me."

Rose glanced down at the stickers and then stared at him quizzically. He was bent over with his hands on his knees, looking at her expectantly.

"Go ahead. Pick a big, bright one and stick it right here," he instructed, indicating a spot in the middle of his forehead.

"Really?" she asked uncertainly.

"Really. Go ahead. I'm used to people giving me weird looks. Doesn't bother me any."

Rose selected a large green frog sticker, let him have a look at it, and tentatively placed it where he'd said.

"There. How's that? Now if people wonder anything about you, it'll be why a pretty, little girl like you is with a kooky man like me."

She smiled up at him and he knew then that she was ready. He took her by the hand again and led her to the door. "Here we go, Rose Tyler. Welcome to the Prosnar Space Station."

He opened the TARDIS doors and she gaped in astonishment. They were parked in a narrow alleyway on the edge of the street. The two of them still stood in the TARDIS doorway and Rose was glad that she hadn't just stepped out, for she might have been swept away in the crowd. It wasn't a road for vehicles, but a street meant solely for pedestrian traffic, and the traffic was thick. People were nearly shoulder to shoulder across the entire width.

"If they were going the same way, it'd be like a cattle drive," Rose whispered in awe.

The Doctor chuckled as he remembered the time he and Rose _had_ worked a cattle drive. He hoped it was an occasion she was actually remembering and not just a random statement. "I couldn't have thought of better description."

She stood there for a few minutes, watching the people pass, and the Doctor waited patiently for her. She stared at a tall, red reptilian man as he passed and then short bald woman with a blue face and hands... at least she thought it was a woman; it had been wearing lipstick... as least she thought it was lipstick. The people came in many shades and sizes and were so very different that Rose couldn't help but look at as many as she could. Some had horns or spikes, and others had claws or tentacles. There were eyes stalks, shiny scales, and shaggy fur; people with numerous arms and legs and even a person with two heads.

"Won't we stand out?" she asked.

"You're kidding," he said in disbelief.

"Well, they're all so colorful and different. We're so plain and normal," she worried.

"That's just the thing - there is no 'normal' here. Everyone's different. And you are anything but plain. You're extraordinary."

Rose nodded and stared for just another moment before looking up at him with anxious excitement again. "I think I'm ready now."

"Alright. Just one last thing. I want you to listen very carefully." He spoke slowly and Rose had never seen him so serious. "It has never been so important as it is now. You must not wander off. I don't want you letting go of my hand for even a second. Do you understand?"

Rose nodded solemnly, but thoughts of attaching her to him with that red cable still came to the Doctor’s mind. He decided to trust her. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back even tighter.

"Now then, let's get some dinner." They stepped out together and began their walk at a casual pace, something Rose had not expected. Most people were walking so quickly that she'd been sure that they'd be swept up by them. People weaved around them though and she noticed then that there were many others going about even more leisurely than she and the Doctor. The street was lined on both sides by shops and people were staring in the windows as they passed. She glanced briefly at a few stores, but when she didn't recognize what any of the objects were, she returned her attention to the people.

Rose was taken by surprise when the Doctor stopped. Their hands were still connected, but just the two steps she had taken after he halted made her feel much too far from him. She hurried back to him, not close enough until their sides touched. She looked then at where they ended up. It was a cute little bistro with a casual atmosphere. The Doctor spoke with the hostess and they were quickly seated on the patio. Rose didn't release the Doctor's hand until they reached their table.

"Alright?" The Doctor asked as they took their seats. Rose had not smiled since they arrived at the space station and he was worried that she was overwhelmed.

Rose watched a pram as it passed the restaurant, dying to get a look at the alien baby inside before looking back at the Doctor. When she finally registered what he'd asked, she grinned widely. "I love it."

Rose's gaze started wandering to the street again but the Doctor caught her attention before she was lost in the sights. "Are you going to have a look at the menu?"

She looked down at the table, noticing the menu for the first time. "But I won't know what anything is," she reminded him.

"You never know until you have a look."

She opened the cover and read the names and descriptions of the first five entrees. As she'd expected, not a single dish or ingredient seemed familiar. "It's no good," she told him, chagrined again by her memory.

"No need to be upset. Everything here is very good. You could select at random, pick one with the coolest name, or, if you prefer, I could pick something for you."

She glanced again at the menu and almost immediately flipped it shut. "I think you'd make a better choice."

A young waitress appeared at their table almost the instant the Doctor closed his menu. She immediately began reciting a well-rehearsed greeting and description of the daily specials. She tried to sound chipper but it was easy to tell that she was tired of the monotonous spiel. There was no wonder why; the list seemed endless, including special drinks, appetizers, entrees, and desserts.

"So can I start you off with something to drink?" It wasn't until she finished that she got a good look at the Doctor. Her eyes moved directly to the green frog sticker on his forehead. She blinked herself out of a stupor and her cheeks flushed deep crimson. The Doctor's eyes met Rose's across the table and they both chuckled.

"We'd love some drinks," the Doctor replied. "But I think we're also ready with the rest of our order, if that's alright."

While the Doctor placed his order, Rose turned her attention back to the waitress. Her cheeks really had turned crimson, not pink, for pink was her natural skin color. And it was skin, too, not scales or anything. Rose thought she looked quite human if it weren't for her skin color and antennae. Of all the people she'd looked at so far, she thought this young woman was the prettiest.

"And for you?" the waitress asked. She was giving Rose a quizzical look and shifted uncomfortably. It was then that Rose realized that she'd been outright staring at the woman and what was worse, she'd been caught doing it.

She gaped and blinked in panic. She sputtered over her words as she tried to figure out what to say. "I-I-I'm sorry! I didn’t mean... I wasn't staring. I mean, I was, but... it's just that you're a very pretty color and-" Rose's eyes widened further and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Had she really just said that? Was it okay to say stuff like that? Compliment people's skin color? What if she was offended?

The waitress laughed then and her cheeks turned bright red again. "Thank you. You're a very pretty color, too."

Rose took her hand away from her mouth to mutter a very small 'thank you' and slid down in her chair in utter mortification.

"Can I get you something for dinner?" the young woman asked warmly.

"She asked me to order for her," the Doctor remarked. The waitress gave Rose one last supportive smile and turned her attention back to the Doctor.

Rose didn't hear another word they spoke, focusing on making herself as invisible. When the waitress left, the Doctor sat up straight, arching his neck to get a better look at Rose. She was slumped so far down in her seat that she was hardly visible over the table. "What are you doing down there?"

"Can we leave?" she asked miserably.

"What? Of course not. We just ordered."

"I just humiliated myself. Can't we just eat in the TARDIS?"

"No need to feel humiliated. You just made her day," he offered supportively. "She looked miserable when she came over here and left with a smile because of you. She'll keep that smile the rest of the night, I'd wager."

"Because she's laughing at me," Rose mumbled.

"No, she's not. She's flattered. Doesn't it make you feel good when someone calls you pretty?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug, staring under the table at the Doctor's shoes.

"Everyone embarrasses themselves sometimes. That's no reason to hide. If I hid away every time I embarrassed myself, I'd never get to leave the TARDIS. Now come on, you were having a great time. Don't let one silly slip ruin our night out."

Rose sat back up in her chair but stared blankly at the table, not trusting herself to look anywhere else.

"What about this? How about I tell you one of my embarrassing stories?" the Doctor offered, trying to catch her eye. "Then you'll know what real embarrassment is."

Rose shrugged again and the Doctor took it as a 'yes'.

"Let me see. Which story to tell? Ah, there was this one time down in Tanzania where I had an unfortunate run in with a territorial hippopotamus. Long story, actually, but it had me running starkers through the middle of a nearby village with a very angry hippo on my heels. You wouldn't think they'd be very fast, but I really had to leg it. Most of the time, people would run for cover, but they were too busy pointing and laughing."

Rose cracked a small smile but didn't look up from the table cloth.

"Oh, there was this other time that a walked into this large banquet on Durden 6 wearing trousers. The men started flirting with me and I couldn’t figure out why. Then I noticed that the women were the ones in trousers. Men there wear dresses. Well, they don’t call them dresses and they’re a bit more manly than the frilly things girls wear on Earth.”

Rose giggled and glanced up at him.

“That’s not the funny bit,” he told her. “So I explained to them that I was a foreigner and that I didn’t know the custom. One of the women gave me a dress to put on and-”

Rose was still giggling.

“Still not the funny bit,” he insisted. “So I went back to the banquet and the men were still a bit upset with me, thinking that I’d been leading them on. I didn’t want to be on bad terms with them so, as a peace offering, I ordered a raspberry torte for them all. I barely dodged a punch in the nose. Turns out that raspberries are reserved for females. They thought I was insulting them, calling them women. I flew out the door with no less than a dozen men chasing after me.”

Rose had both hands covering her mouth to suppress her laughter. The waitress had returned with the drinks, but Rose didn’t seem to notice.

“Fast as I am, I was having a hard time outrunning them. I hopped over a fence into someone’s farm. I didn’t think they keep following, but they did. I’m telling you, they were _furious_. I had really insulted them. I knew I needed more speed, so I nicked a rounou from the farm (sort of like a very large kangaroo that they raise for food), I jumped on its back, and hopped away into the sunset.”

Rose was shaking with laughter. When she took her hands away from her face, she was positively beaming. “Is that a true story?”

“Every word.”

The waitress returned with the food and Rose sheepishly looked up at her. She was terribly bashful once again, but with boldness that surprised them all, she spoke to the woman. “It might have been silly to say, but I did mean it. You are very pretty.”

The young woman regarded her with a warm smile and Rose realized that the Doctor was right; she wasn’t being laughed at.

“I meant it, too,” the waitress told her kindly. “You’re a very pretty little girl.”

The Doctor was right about that, too. Being told you were pretty really did make your day.

“As for you,” the waitress said playfully to the Doctor, emboldened by Rose’s spirit, “that’s a very handsome sticker.”

Rose was laughing again and laughed harder still when the Doctor politely thanked her.

“You can take it off now,” Rose told him once the waitress had gone.

“Only if you want me to,” he replied. “I really don’t mind.”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better now. And you shouldn’t have to embarrass yourself for me.”

“I don’t embarrass that easily. But if you’re sure, I think I might like to. It’s rather itchy.”

Rose nodded and the Doctor removed the sticker. Unsure of what to do with it next, he stuck it to his jacket. They both looked down at the steaming dishes in front of them. Rose’s mouth watered as she examined it briefly. It was a delicious looking mix of colorful vegetables set on a bed of clear, thin noodles. She didn’t recognize anything but the noodles, but she didn’t hesitate at all. Famished after a long day of play, she tucked in greedily. She was halfway through when the Doctor advised her to save room for dessert. She was glad she did. That evening, she rediscovered chocolate and after the first bite, she declared it the most amazing thing in the universe.

The walk back to the TARDIS was quite slow. Not only was Rose quite full, she was absolutely exhausted. Her eyelids were heavy as she scanned her closet for pajamas. Too tired for indecision, she selected the first nightgown she encountered. The Doctor skipped his usual warnings and just made the suggestion that she make it a quick bath.

By the time she was brushing her hair at the mirror, she could hardly keep her eyes open.

“Right,” the Doctor said as he plucked the brush from her hand. “Definitely time for bed.”

Once she was snug beneath the blankets, the Doctor gave her a quick kiss on the head and bid her goodnight.

“Wait.” Rose took his hand and pulled him down until he was kneeling at the bed like he had every previous night. “Are you my dad?”

“No,” he told her as he had the night before. “I’m the Doctor.”

“But you love me,” she stated, her tired mind trying to make sense of him.

“Yes, I do.”

“Is that why you’re always kissing me?”

“It is. It’s just one of the ways I like to show you that I care about you.”

Rose sat back up in bed, smiled warmly at him, and surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes closed and she couldn’t find the strength to open them again. She snuggled back under the blankets, whispered goodnight, and starting falling to sleep before the Doctor even left the room. He paused in the doorway for just a moment, touched his cheek where she had kissed him, and left her for the night.

 

* * *

 

 

Late that night, the Doctor was still awake and sat at the large desk in his dimly lit study. His head was supported by his hands as he stared down at the notebook that lay open in front of him. When he got to the bottom of the page, he flipped it shut and sighed. It was seventy-seven pages of nothing but mathematic equations, each one written by his own hand in the last few days. He began working on it the minute he had finished cataloging the parts of the rejuvenating gun and had worked on it last night, during the day in his workshop, and finally finished it an hour and a half ago. After that, he went about checking his work. It didn’t take him long. He need only glance at an equation to see that it was right or wrong. It was as easy to him as reading the word “cat”. It was physically writing it out that had taken him so long to put it all together.

He sat back in his chair and sighed. All of his work was correct, but he still questioned it. It was too important to allow even one mistake. One tiny miscalculation could have catastrophic consequences. He couldn’t chance that with Rose.

He checked his watch: three o’clock in the morning. He should really head to bed, but he was torn. Being a Time Lord, he could go days without sleep with little negative effect, but he found that he was at his best if he gave himself two to three hours of rest each night. Perhaps he’d skip it tonight.

The Doctor took a sip of tea, which had gone cold long ago, and flipped to the first page in his notebook. He started in surprise when a long shadow was cast upon the wall. He quickly swiveled his chair around to find Rose standing in the doorway.

“Rose? How did you find this room? You shouldn’t be wandering –“ he stopped when he noticed that something wrong. He had a hard time seeing her face because of the shadows, but her head was bowed and her shoulders slumped. When he heard her sniffle, he was certain she was crying.

“Rose, what’s wrong?” he asked as he approached her. He knelt before her and lifted her chin so she would look at him properly.

“My mum’s dead,” she whispered weakly. “It wasn’t just a dream, was it? She got old and sick and she died.”

“Oh, Rose,” the Doctor breathed, his voice full of compassion.

Rose’s fear was confirmed when the Doctor did not deny it and her body shook as she broke down completely. The Doctor pulled her into a comforting embrace and she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. He felt his shirt begin to dampen as she wept on his shoulder. He wanted to softly shush her and tell her everything would be okay, but this wasn’t like a skinned knee. This sort of pain was too deep to sooth so casually. She needed her pain to be acknowledged, not hushed as though it was unmerited.

“I know, love,” he whispered softly. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back soothingly. Of all of the memories that could have returned to her, it had to be the cruelest. The very first memory of her mother had to be the heartbreaking loss of her.

When Rose was too weak to stand any longer, the Doctor hoisted her up in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he carried her the long walk back to her room. He placed her gently in bed and she stared up at him with a pleading look.

“Roll over,” he told her gently. When she had rolled onto her belly, the Doctor slipped his hand beneath her night shirt and began stroking her back tenderly. Without even thinking, a Gallifreyan lullaby came to his lips. Very slowly, Rose’s breathing began to even out, but it wasn’t until he was sure she was asleep that his song drifted off. He got up slowly, careful not to wake her, and left her to sleep. Though it was his goal to see all of her memories restored, part of him hoped she’d forget it by morning.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor approached Rose's room for the fifth time in two hours. She was exhausted from the day before and from waking up in the middle of the night. It was no surprise to him that she would sleep in, but that meant that he had to keep checking in on her. He didn't want her to wake up confused and alone, and also didn't want her to go out in search of him.

He opened the door as quietly as he could and found the bed empty.

"Rose?" he called out loudly, looking up and down the hallway.

"I'm in here," she called back.

The Doctor stepped further into Rose's room and found her curled up in the armchair on the other side of her dresser. It was positioned in the corner and completely out of sight unless he stepped fully into the room.

"What are you doing over there?" he asked curiously.

"Reading," she answered, "and waiting for you. I knew you wouldn't like it if I went looking for you.”

After all these years of telling Rose not to wander off, she listened for once. If only he could keep that one thought implanted in her.

"You have very nice feet," she candidly remarked.

The Doctor looked down at his shoes and back up at her utter confusion. Genuine concern about her sanity started setting in but she shrugged nonchalantly.

"I guess it wouldn't work unless they're barefoot."

"I'm a little lost," he confessed.

Rose handed him the magazine she'd been reading and he read the article's headline out loud. "'How to Woo the Common Male: 10 Tips on How to Charm the Alien of Your Dreams.' Rose Tyler, are you testing pick-up lines on me?"

Rose giggled.

"This is all rubbish, you know." He shook his head as he flipped through it.

"I know," she replied. "That's why I bought it. I thought it was funny."

She remember buying it - another tiny memory restored. Once he thought about it, he remembered her buying it, too. It was one of the very first trips she'd taken with him. When she asked him to buy it for her, he'd stared at her incredulously and asked why in the world she'd want something like that. 'Cause I do,' she'd told him with her saucy attitude. He'd rolled his eyes, swearing he'd never understand females, but bought it for her anyway. He was over a thousand years old now and still didn't understand females.

"Breakfast?" Rose asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yes. Breakfast."

Rose hopped up from her seat and took his waiting hand.

"So what would you like this morning?" He began ticking off options, but she interrupted him before he was through.

"Can we have something chocolate?" she requested hopefully.

"Chocolate chip pancakes?" he suggested.

She shrugged, unsure what pancakes were. "So long as it has chocolate."

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, gazing like her facial expression could somehow tell him if she remembered the previous night or only that she liked chocolate. He'd never ask, so he'd simply have to wonder.

That morning, Rose was not content to sit by idly so the Doctor pulled out a small step stool and handed her a whisk. When her part of the preparation was done, she still stood by his side watching and sneaking chocolate chips from the bag when she thought he wasn't looking.

When they got to the infirmary that morning, Rose stopped in the doorway as she always did. With a heavy sigh, the Doctor got down on his knees in front of her. He was about to make his daily promise, when Rose reached out cupped his cheek with her tiny hand.

"I know," she said softly. She tried her best to summon a reassuring smile, but she still looked scared and close to tears. Her hand moved back to her side and she took a deep shuddering breath, trying to steel herself for what was to come. When the Doctor didn't move to get up, she reached down, took him by the hand, and led him to the bed.

He was struck dumb by her every action and regarded her in awe. She seemed as worried for him as he was for her. He collected the instruments he needed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

"Do you need me to explain what's going to happen?" he asked softly. He wasn't sure exactly how much she remembered.

"It's just buzzing, right?" she asked, her anxiety rising.

"That's right."

"And you tell me stories?"

"Yes, I do. And I've already thought of a good one."

Rose's eyes closed as he approached her with the equipment. The second she felt the cold gel, she gripped the bed sheets.

"I tell you the truth, Rose Tyler - You're the bravest person I've ever met."

"I don't  _feel_  brave," she said weakly.

"The bravest people rarely do." The Doctor sat back down on the bed and gently wiped away her tears. "Are you ready?"

She squeezed his hand tightly and gave a tiny nod. That day, he told her of the adventurous Robin Hood.

Rose removed her old patches while the Doctor fetched new ones from the cupboard. He couldn't stop smiling at each little thing she did and he couldn't stop wondering either. "You know that this is getting me all mixed up, don't you? It's easy to see you're remembering things, but I have no idea just how much you're getting back. Any way you can help me out?"

Rose thought about it and shrugged. "I don't know what I remember either. I know stuff now that I didn't before, but I don't really know it's there until something happens. I say something and it's like, 'oh, yeah. I forgot about that.'"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes, that definitely makes sense. Can't tell if a pathway's fixed until you give it a try."

Rose looked puzzled but the Doctor didn't explain further.

"If you do think of something though, if something comes back to you, you'll let me know?"

"Like that you're going to want to go to the workshop next?"

"Exactly, except that it's not true today. I did a lot of work last night, so I thought I'd skip the workshop today."

"So we get to do something fun?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes, we do. Any suggestions?"

"You first. You have good ideas."

"Well, I was sort of thinking that a dip in the swimming pool might be nice."

"Yes!" Rose exclaimed, leaping up from the bed. "I'll go get a swimsuit!"

She was out the door before he could say another word about it.

Once dressed, the Doctor returned to Rose's room. The second he knocked, the door flew open. "I'm ready!" she proclaimed.

She stood there wearing a navy blue and white striped one-piece with red trim and a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"I can see that," he replied. "Nice bathing suit. Classic. It really  _suits_  you."

Rose rolled her eyes at his pun then took notice of his attire. "Erm… Yours look nice, too."

The Doctor laughed. "Don't go giving me compliments that you don't mean. You don't like it, do you?"

Rose scrunched up her nose and shook her head apologetically. "Sorry."

He laughed again. Rose never liked his swim trunks, claiming the orange and yellow stripes were too loud. "Well, meaning no offense, your opinion doesn't really matter in this case. I quite like them."

"You're right and I'd never want you to change. Honest. If it's what you like, then it  _suits_  you."

The Doctor rolled his eyes for show and it was her turn to laugh. "Can we go to the pool now?" she asked hopefully.

"You bet. And I'll tell you what… last one in is a rotten egg!" He took off down the hall and Rose followed, running as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"That's not fair!" she shouted at his back. "You're bigger and I don't even know where it is!"

When Rose finally caught up with him, they were standing in the doorway and she was panting for breath. She meant to tell him again that the race hadn't been fair, but forgot all about it as she surveyed the room. The pool was quite sizable. It was nothing near Olympic size but quite big for just the two of them. It looked much like the one at the recreation center where her mum used to take aerobics classes when she was small. It was even surrounded by similar vinyl-strap lounge chairs, but then, those style chairs seemed to be a standard at swimming pools.

"Why are there so many chairs?" she wondered aloud.

"Well, why not?" he asked in return.

"Well, if it's just the two of us, why would you need so many?"

"Atmosphere, I guess." He’d honestly never thought of it before. "Besides, it would look awfully empty without them. The more important question is, why is it that you take notice of the chairs and completely ignore the waterslide?"

Rose noticed it for the first time. One large, swirly waterslide stood at the far end of the pool. She was off like a shot.

"No running by the pool!" The Doctor’s warning fell on deaf ears.

Rose didn't slow down for nearly an hour, but neither did the Doctor. Taking turns, they both went down the slide over and over again.

"Doctor!" Rose shouted up from the bottom of the ladder. "Try going down face first on your belly! It's the best!"

The Doctor nearly slipped down sideways, startled by her call. He could hardly breathe. Instead of going down the slide, he climbed back down the ladder as quickly as he could. Rose stepped back in confusion, but he swooped her up and spun her around in a circle. She laughed at him, but when he put her down she stared at him quizzically. He bent down with his hands on his knees to look her right in the eye, a large grin plastered on his face.

"You remembered my name," he explained. With all that she was coming to remember, this excited him the most. She had begun to question who he was a couple days before, but now she knew.

"I guess I do," she replied, thinking it over for the first time.

He couldn't ask her what more she remembered of him, but he stared at her with the most hopeful expression, hoping she'd tell him something more. She didn't understand why he was looking at her like that and seemed to be getting uncomfortable from it.

"One more time then," he requested. "Say it just once more."

She giggled at him then. "Doctor."

He let out an exaggerated whoop, picked her up, and tossed her into the pool.

She came up sputtering and laughed at him. "What was that for?"

"Just for." The Doctor did a cannonball into the water and landed just beside her. "You looked like you were getting too dry."

She splashed at him and he tickled her side in retaliation.

"So, Rose Tyler, I was thinking. Since you seem to think our race in the hallway was unfair, what do you say to a little race in the pool?"

"How would that be any more fair?" She scowled at him upon remembering the injustice of their last race. "You're still bigger than me. You'd win for sure."

"Okay, how about a hold your breath contest?"

"Still not fair! You've got respiratory bypass."

He'd set her up for that one. He wanted to know if she'd remember that fact. He was thrilled that she did. 'The Doctor' was more than just a name to her.

"I've got it," she said, haughtily sticking her chin in the air. "A diving contest."

"Well, now that's not fair for me is it?"

"Why not?"

"Well, because you're the gymnast."

"So you're saying it's not fair because I'm more talented?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

"I did  _not_  say that," he argued.

"But you implied it," she teased.

"Not true."

"Then why won't you accept the challenge?"

"I didn't say that either," he protested. "You, Rose Tyler, are putting words in my mouth."

"So you accept?"

"You just get your little bum up on that platform. I'll show you."

As they both expected, there was no contest. They needed no judge for the Doctor made no dispute. Rose glowed with pride. Though her memories were still scattered, it was an irrefutable fact in her mind that the Doctor was the best at nearly everything. This was one thing she could declare that she was better at.

She didn't have to declare it though. The Doctor was a very good sport. He clapped and praised her after every dive. He beamed with pride that matched her own. In return, she decided to be a good sport as well, not bragging about her skills. When she felt that their game was done, she gave him a hug and moved on to sift through the many toys in the corner. She tested out a snorkel and played with plastic diving rings. Half a dozen toy boats and wind-up toys floated around one of the corners of the pool. Much of the time, the Doctor watched from one of the lounge chairs, but when Rose stretched out on an inflatable raft to rest, he joined her on a raft of his own.

"You know, it's funny," she thought aloud as she stared pensively at the water's reflection on the ceiling. "People spend their whole childhood wishing to be grown up, but once they get there, they wish they were kids again. They don't even realize why."

"And why's that?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"Because when you're little, the world is so big and new and exciting. You're trying to discover yourself and where you fit in and you're hopeful about it. When you get grown up, you forget that. You think you know everything and it makes you feel stuck, like you've found your place and that's it."

"It doesn't have to be like that," he assured her.

"Yeah. You showed me that. It made being grown up easier. It made it more fun."

"Do you miss being grown up?" When he looked at her, she looked confused and very deep in thought. He instantly became worried, concerned that he'd pushed too far. She was delving deep into her mind for memories of her adult life, something to compare this young life with. He hoped with great desperation that it didn't cause her to backtrack.

"I don't know," she answered finally. "Hard to miss what you really don't know. I think I was happy then, but I know for sure that I'm happy right now."

"Are you?"

"Very." She looked at him then with a big smile.

"Do you think that you'll miss this?"

Rose shrugged, looking back up at the ceiling. "I guess it depends on how happy I am when I'm big again."

They fell into a companionable silence, each retreating into their own thoughts. The Doctor's thoughts were mainly focused on what she might be thinking. He was astounded by how quickly her memories were returning. It started out so gradually and now it seemed like more memories were returning every minute.

When he first realized the damage she suffered, he feared it could take months, even years to restore her, if he could at all. He imagined trying several types of treatments. He told her that luck was often on their side in the end, but it was never so true. With such amazing progress in just a few short days, he dared to hope that they might be able to restore every memory, and soon. He thought then of the rejuvenating gun. He said that he didn't need to work on it today, but in truth, he was putting it off. It now scared him more than the memory treatments. If he made a mistake, it would be by his own hands that Rose would suffer. He wasn't sure he could take it.

The room was so quiet and still that Rose startled by the splash that occurred when the Doctor hopped off his raft. He announced that it was lunch time and Rose immediately pleaded for just a little more time. He always had a hard time telling her no, but this time he was insistent. It was already going to be a late lunch, so they had no more time to waste. She tried to claim that she wasn't hungry, but her stomach growled in favor of the Doctor. Still, it wasn't until the Doctor promised they visit the pool again soon that she conceded.

The Doctor hopped out of the pool just before her and offered her a hand up. She paused at the side and when she looked up at him it was with barely concealed laughter.

"You have very nice feet."

The Doctor shook his head in feigned weariness. "Rose Tyler, what am I going to do with you?"

"Keep me," she answered.

He took her by the hand and hauled her out of the water. "Yes, I think I might do that."

They separated briefly to get dressed, but met back up in the kitchen. When the Doctor entered, Rose was already on her step stool at the counter to help.

After lunch the Doctor decided it might be nice to do something a little more relaxing. He was hesitant when he suggested the library, expecting she might grouse and declare it boring, but she was as enthusiastic as ever.

"Wait here," she instructed him before racing in the direction of her room. She returned a moment later with a book clutched in her hands. "I found it this morning. I don't remember it, but I must love it if I kept it on my nightstand."

"Rose Tyler," he lightly scolded, "what were you doing reading that silly magazine this morning when you had a treasure like this in your room?"

"I didn't think I'd be able to finish a chapter before you showed up. So this book's a good one?"

"You'll love it."

When they entered the library, the Doctor paid close attention to her reaction. She didn't look surprised by its grand size and moved directly to the couch where they usually sat. She remembered.

Rose waited for him to take his normal spot then sat down directly beside him.

"Here we go," he said as he turned to the cover page. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."

Rose leaned against his side and read silently along with him. After he'd read a few pages, she took it from him to take a turning reading herself. She read with passion. Her perfect inflection set the mood for each scene and made the characters come alive. He thought of the many times they sat in that very same position, taking turns reading from the best books the universe had to offer.

It hadn't always been like that. He remembered a time when she grimaced at the thought of spending hours in the library. When she had first started traveling with him, she didn't care much for books. It wasn't that she disliked them; she just thought that her time could be better spent doing other things. As they started becoming closer in their friendship, she gravitated toward him more. She preferred to be near him, even if it meant spending time in the library. She brought her magazines at first, but quickly became bored with them. Irritated by her sighs of boredom, the Doctor thrust a book into her hands. It was the very same book they were reading now.

"Isn't this a kids' book?" she’d asked with sassy attitude. She'd been greatly offended by the selection, believing he thought her reading skill to be that of an elementary student.

"That," he replied with equal attitude, "is a celebrated classic for all ages."

"Then why aren't you reading it?" she challenged.

"Because I've read it a good dozen times and this is an awfully big library. It’d be foolish to read just one book with so many others waiting to be found."

Rose looked at him skeptically but then noticed that the book did show signs of wear. When she looked back up at him, he was engrossed by his own book again. If a gruff alien in a leather jacket enjoyed it, she decided she might, too. She stretched out on the sofa with her feet near him, and began reading. She became depressed when she finished the last book of the series, not knowing what to do next, but the Doctor handed her another book.

She enjoyed reading then, but not like she did now. It was sometime in the decades that they were separated that she found a passion for it. She came back telling him of the many books in Pete's World that didn't exist in this universe. She did it to make him jealous and it worked. It was then Rose that went to the library and he was the one to follow.

"I love exploring new worlds, meeting new people, running for our lives," she told him once, "but you can still have adventure without all that. Books are the adventures you live quietly."

Oh, how she'd grown. She was still coming into her own when he met her. He watched her grow in their adventures, becoming more confident in herself and mature in her views. When she returned to him after their time apart, she had fully matured. Independent, confident, and wise. She was every bit his Rose though. Energetic, enthusiastic, clever, witty. She had that same indomitable spirit, same love of adventure, unlimited compassion, and an unconditional love for him that he was certain he didn't deserve. She was his beloved Rose.

They read for hours that afternoon. Rose couldn't get enough. He asked after every chapter if she wanted to stop, and each time she answered by beginning to read the next page. When he finally insisted that it was time for dinner, she insisted just as firmly that she wasn't leaving until they read just one more chapter.

When they finally finished supper, it was getting late. He hustled her through their bedtime routine in order to get her in bed on time. She argued that she was too old for a set bedtime, but he pretended he hadn't heard her. He received another goodnight kiss that night.

He paused outside her door as he always did, taking time to review their day, and then talked himself into returning to his study. His Rose was coming back to him, but for her to be fully restored, he needed to finish his work on that blasted gun.

The Doctor had only been in bed for half an hour, just starting to drift off to sleep, when he felt a weight settle on the bed behind him. He rolled over quickly to find Rose slipping beneath the blankets.

"Rose, what are you doing here?" he asked in surprise.

"This is my real bed," she told him sleepily.

She looked quite comfortable, but he felt far from it. Was it alright that she that she sleep with him? Was it wrong? She was just a child. He wouldn't dream of asking her to leave, but he seriously considered slipping out of bed himself. Before he could come to a decision, Rose made it for him. She snuggled into his side and laid her head on his arm. She breathed in deeply and hummed with contentment. Slowly, the Doctor began to relax. This couldn't be wrong. No matter her size, she was his Rose and she belonged at his side.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor woke the next morning with his darling Rose at his side. She was curled up against him when she fell asleep, but at some point in the night, she broke away. Her tiny little body was now sprawled out, taking up most of her side of the bed. After stealing a quick moment to watch her sleep, he slipped slowly out of bed, careful not to wake her. He moved next to the closet.

Little Rose had made a snarky comment about him choosing his clothes in the dark and this was precisely why. He woke before she did every morning and didn’t want to wake her by turning on the lights. It didn’t matter to him what he chose. His wardrobe was easily mixed and matched and no matter what he selected, the garments went well together. Well, almost always… There had been a few times that Rose sent him back to fetch a different tie.

Once he collected all that he needed, the Doctor ducked out the door and strolled to the bathroom just down the hall to shower and dress for the day, whistling as he went. He was filled with joy and excitement that morning, thrilled by the progress Rose had made the day before and eager to see what more she would remember today. His smile fell away when he returned to his room and found the bed empty. He tried to keep himself calm, but still had a quickness in his step as he made his way to Rose’s old room. Upon finding it empty too, he hurried a bit faster to the kitchen. It, too, was empty.

Panic began setting in. She could be anywhere. The ship was huge and he feared what kind of trouble she could get into. His brain started ticking through the many dangers she could encounter: gases, poisons, radiation, engines, labyrinths, jungles, deadly insects, cliffs, waterfalls… The list went on. The TARDIS wasn’t meant to house children.

He called out her name as he began racing through the corridors. He intended to check the most likely places first, the locations they already visited. The places she liked best. The library? The pool? Maybe she had gone looking for him. The study? The workshop?

He decided upon the workshop first, fearing the dangers there. He was about to call out for her again, when he heard her. He whipped around and saw her skipping around the corner of a hall he’d just passed. She hadn’t been down there when he passed just a moment ago. She was skipping in the opposite direction and hadn’t seen him.

“Rose!” He wasn’t sure if he was more frustrated or relieved.

She whipped around in surprise, but then smiled brightly when she saw him.

“Where are you going? Where did you go?” he demanded as he approached her.

“I’m on my way to the kitchen,” she replied lightly, not sensing his mood. “I just popped into my TARDIS to-“

“What?” He gaped in incredulous horror. “But how’d you know where it was?”

“It’s in the garden where we always park it,” she answered. She noticed then that he was acting a bit odd, but she wasn’t sure why.

“What were you doing in there? Tell me exactly what you touched.” He spoke slowly and in a serious tone she wasn’t used to. She was apprehensive then when she replied.

“I just went to fetch my watch.”

“Your watch?”

“Yeah…” She held up a pink banded wristwatch as proof. “I remember taking it off before heading to Tenslar. I left it on the jumpseat. I thought since there are no clocks around here, it might be helpful to have on me.”

Tenslar. It was the last trip that she took. That was, if she ever made it there. She’d gone to visit an old friend and made it quite clear that he wasn’t invited. Though it always made him nervous when they split up, he didn’t blame her for not wanting him there. He hadn’t made the best impression. He’d trusted her to keep herself safe. He trusted that she’d be smart. Then she answered Jack’s call.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked tentatively.

“You just got the watch? You didn’t touch anything else?” he probed.

“Just the watch,” she quietly affirmed. “Doctor, are you angry with me?”

The Doctor sighed heavily. “No. No, I’m not angry, but I want you to listen very carefully. I don’t want you going back in there. Not ‘til you’re grown. Do you understand?”

“You’re angry that I went in my TARDIS?” she asked, still trying to understand just what she’d done wrong.

“I told you I’m not angry. I was worried. I don’t want you going back in there. I need you to promise me.”

Rose nodded in understanding, but the Doctor still looked at her expectantly. He wanted to hear her say it. “I promise. I promise I won’t go back until I’m grown.”

“Thank you,” he replied earnestly. “But it can’t stop there. You can’t just go wandering about. I have to know where you are. Tell me you understand.”

Rose looked down at his admonishment and nodded.

“I’m not angry,” he repeated. “This is me worrying about you. That’s what I want you to understand.”

“I’m not in trouble then?” she asked uncertainly.

“No, of course not.”

She didn’t look like she believed him.

 “I told you, you’re not. So stop looking at me like that.” He nudged her with his side and gave her a look of encouragement. “Give me a smile.”

She did crack a smile, but it was weak.

“Bigger,” he ordered.

She chuckled and smiled a little wider, he could still see that she was worried.

“Nope, not good enough,” he declared. “We’re going to have to do something better. I want you to go back to where you started down that hall and skip all the way to breakfast.”

A mischievous smile appeared then. “Only if you do it with me.”

“Oh, no. You don’t want to see me skipping. I trip over myself like an elephant on stilts.”

Rose was laughing then and dragging him with her to the starting point. “Now I want to see it more than ever. And I was humming, so you have to hum, too.”

“Oh, the things I do for you…”

The Doctor didn’t hum, but he did skip next to her.

“So, breakfast,” Rose said as the kitchen door came into view. “I have a request. Is that alright?”

“More than alright. I love taking requests. What’ll it be?”

“Do you have stuff to make Rachlovian wiltsvi-… wiltsdav-“

“Wiltsdlvinti?” the Doctor supplied.

Rose huffed and nodded. She always hated it when she couldn’t pronounce things right. Raxacoricofallapatorius was nothing to her now, but the Rachlovian language was hard to wrap your tongue around. It was extra frustrating considering wiltsdlvinti was one of her favorite dishes. He’d caught her practicing the pronunciation in front of the mirror on more than one occasion.

“We could cut the word down into something easier if you want,” he suggested.

She scowled at him then. “Don’t patronize me just ‘cause I’m small.”

He laughed and nudged her playfully. “Wiltsdlvinti it is.”

When breakfast was through, she hopped up on her stool and began drying the dishes while he did the washing, just as adult Rose always had. They’d really fallen into a domestic routine quite soon after Rose returned to him. He had sworn off domestics long ago, thinking they made life predictable and boring, but it was comfortable and with all the adventures they went on during the day, life was anything but predictable. Life with Rose was grand.

As soon as the dishes were done, Rose hopped off the stool and headed out of the kitchen. The Doctor was about to call after her to ask where she was going, but her head popped back into the doorway. “I’m going to my room to get dressed,” she announced blandly, wearied already by his new rule. She may have agreed to it, but reporting her every destination was not something she was going to enjoy.

She still looked dispirited when she returned. The Doctor was going to say something about it, but then realized it might be because of their next destination. She was remembering their routine and he suspected that she would remember that the infirmary came next and he was almost certain of it now. He took her by the hand, gave it an encouraging squeeze, and started leading her to the infirmary.

When Rose halted in the doorway, the Doctor stopped, too. He studied her expression, gauging her reaction, so that he could find the best way to respond. She took a deep breath and made straight for the bed.

“I remember why I get so scared around this stuff,” she hesitantly revealed. “It was Torchwood… in Pete’s World.”

The Doctor stilled at the counter and glanced at her over his shoulder. She was staring straight at the ceiling and clutching the bed sheets at her sides. It was something Rose very rarely acknowledged aloud. It was an event that she kept buried deep, too painful to allow to surface, and a story that the Doctor never wished to hear again. But if she ever felt the need to share it, he’d never dissuade her.

When she continued, the Doctor realized that it was little more than a story to her. It was a memory that she understood was terrifying, but felt only a sliver of emotional attachment to. “I remember them stripping me and strapping me down. I remember the needles and knives and wires. They’d test me until I died. Regeneration would start, but then they’d stop it. I never knew you could do that. I thought that once regeneration started, there was no going back. But they’d start my heart again. They’d make me better, but only to do it again. I almost regenerated three times because of them. That’s why medical stuff still scares me. Even when I couldn’t remember what happened, I could never forget how much it hurt.”

The Doctor finished collecting his instruments and moved to her side. “You know that I’d never hurt you though, don’t you? Anything I do is only to help.”

“I know.” She gave him a smile, but it was weak. “And it really is helping. I’m remembering so much now.”

“Should I explain what I’m going to do?”

“No, that’s okay. Just a little sonic stimulation. Let’s just get through it quick, okay?”

“It’s going to take the same amount of time as it always does,” he informed her apologetically. “It needs time to work.”

“Alright… It better be a good story then.”

“Peter Pan,” he announced. She approved immediately and declared it a _very_ good choice. She obviously remembered it, but was no less enthralled.

“How come you never ask me questions?” Rose inquired as she sat up in bed. The Doctor was still just fetching a damp cloth to wash her up, but she was impatiently pulling the suction cups off herself. “I mean, I know you always want to ask, and I want to know what I remember as much as you do. So how come you never ask anything?”

“Because I can’t. It causes you to backtrack. It was terrible when we first started. You’d forget absolutely everything at the simplest question,” he explained. She took the cloth from him and began cleaning the gel off herself so he could move on to retrieve the patches.

“But my brain’s stronger now. There’s no way I could forget it all again,” she said with confidence.

“I doubt you’ll lose it _all_ again, but that doesn’t mean you won’t backtrack. We can’t risk it.”

“Oh, come on. Please?” she begged. “Just one little question. Just a tiny one even. Please?”

The Doctor sighed. “Do you like to read?”

Rose crossed her arms and glared at him. “You know I do. We read for hours. Ask me something real.”

“You like to read,” he stated. “So tell me about it.”

“That’s not a question. It’s a prompt.”

Despite her petulance, the Doctor stood firm. “It’s already a risky request and it’s the best you’re going to get.”

Rose huffed and stuck her chin in the air, but she had accepted the challenge, searching for a memory to surprise him with.

“Charles Dickens,” she said finally. “We met him on my very first trip to the past. I later read all of his novels, but not until I was in Pete’s World. And in Pete’s World, he finished The Mystery of Edwin Drood before he died. When I got back to this universe I teased you mercilessly that I knew the ending and you didn’t. I wouldn’t tell you and I wouldn’t let you forget that I knew it. When you finally had enough, you locked the kitchen door with your sonic screwdriver and vowed not to open it until I told you the end. I stubbornly went hungry for nineteen hours before giving in.”

Rose’s chin was still raised, now with smug satisfaction. The Doctor couldn’t look more pleased.

“That’s brilliant,” he praised. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret. I was jealous that you knew the ending, but I was more jealous of the person that got to read it with you.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“It was still soon after you returned to me, and I was quite jealous of all the time he had with you.”

“Who?”

“The other me. He lived with you for decades while I had only gotten a couple years.” He realized his mistake the second he looked at her. Her lips were purse and her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“I… I can’t remember who I lived with there,” she worried. When she looked up at him, she wore an expression helplessness and fear.

“No, Rose. Stop,” the Doctor ordered suddenly. He fell to his knees at her bedside and took her hand. “You have to stop thinking about it.”

“It’s not there.” She was panting in panic, delving desperately into her memories for a missing piece she couldn’t find. “I can’t remember any of it. There were people there. I remembered them. I remembered things, but it’s not there anymore.”

“Stop!” the Doctor commanded. She was backtracking and quickly. She was tearing up the memories she’d fit together in her frantic search for the one piece she couldn’t find. In seconds, she had lost thirty-three years of her life. The Doctor took her face in his hands and looked her straight in the eye. “Stop it, Rose. Stop trying to remember. Think of something else. Anything else. Charles Dickens, breakfast, Harry Potter, swimming...” He was rattling off the many things that he knew she remembered.

“Golfing on the moon?” she asked uncertainly.

“Yes. That’s good. Golfing on the moon. That was fun, wasn’t it?” He had no idea that it was something she’d remembered, but he would grasp onto anything he could. She still looked puzzled, holding onto a feeling that something was off, that something big had happened, but she wasn’t sure what it was. She pushed the feeling aside and focused on something she did know.

“We both wore those orange space suits. We did drive some golf balls, but we spent more time just bouncing around. I was just having so much fun with the gravity.”

“It was a very fun trip,” the Doctor agreed.

“Can we go back? Can we do it now?” she asked hopefully.

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. We sort of changed history a bit with that one… Remember how you asked me why we couldn’t find the American flag?” When Rose nodded, he continued. “That’s because I got the timing a bit off. The Americans hadn’t been there yet. Neil Armstrong’s ‘small step’ was on one of our golf balls. He slipped and nearly tore his spacesuit.”

“No!” she said incredulously.

“Yes. And he brought the ball back with him. The world thought it was just a joke of his, that he’d taken the ball with him to the moon, but he was adamant about his claim ‘til the day he died. Some people believed him, alien conspirators mainly, claiming the government was covering up the truth. Twenty years after the incident, one nutter broke into the museum, stole the ball, and dissolved it in acid, certain that it was an alien probe sent to spy on Earth.”

Rose was giggling by the end. “You and your timing… Did they still let Alan Shepard hit golf balls then?”

“Yes, he still got that privilege. This time they got the idea because of our golf ball.”

“Well, if we can’t go golfing on the moon, what else could we do?”

“We can worry about that after lunch. Right now, I’ve got some work to do in the workshop.”

Rose didn’t reply, but sulked the whole way there. The Doctor pretended not to notice.

“So!” The Doctor said brightly, clapping his hands together. “What can I get for you to do today? Dolls, building blocks, puppets…”

Rose glared at him. He’d never seen her look so insulted. “I’m not a toddler.”

“Right… puzzles? Clay? Books?”

Rose huffed in exasperation, and moved about the room without speaking. She retrieved her paint set from the drawer, then moved to the drawer where he hid her finished paintings. She took the unfinished painting from a few days before and brought it to her work station.

“Right…” the Doctor repeated. Deciding to ignore her mood again, he sat himself down at his own unfinished project. Today he’d start reassembling the gun.

After ten minutes, Rose huffed again and slapped her paintbrush down on the counter. “I can’t take it,” she declared in frustration, spinning on her stool to face him. “It’s hard you know. I hurts not to be trusted.”

“Why would you think I don’t trust you?” the Doctor asked with concern.

“’Cause you don’t!” She pouted miserably and looked away. “You keep me chained to your side, because you don’t trust me to go anywhere on my own.”

“Rose,” he started softly.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t talk to me like that. You’re patronizing me again.”

“I’m just trying to explain,” he continued in a slow soothing voice. “The TARDIS is a dangerous place. It’s not meant for children. If you-“

“I’m not a child,” she protested, hopping up from her chair.

“But you are,” he argued gently, “and with your memories-“

“My memories are coming back. I remember lots of rooms in the TARDIS. I know which ones to stay out of. You let me go out the other day. Why can’t you-“

“Do you want to do that again? Do you want me to get the cable?”

“No!”

“That’s what I thought. You’re not like you were the other day. You won’t be satisfied with the sports hall. You-“

“Exactly! I’m not like I was the other day. I remember stuff and it makes it harder to be locked up. You act like I’m going to go looking for trouble. I’m not going to go play with roentgen bricks or Untra spears. I just want to go look around. Remember stuff. Please?” she pleaded earnestly.

“I’m sorry, Rose,” the Doctor said sincerely. “But I need to know where you are. I need to make sure you’re safe.”

Rose growled in frustration. “When I first started traveling with you, you let me go wherever I wanted and I knew a lot less than I do now. Is it really so different just because I’m shorter?”

The Doctor sighed heavily and beckoned her to him. Rose approached his chair slowly. Her anger fell away to despondency. The Doctor took her hand and sighed again.

“There are conditions, so listen closely,” he told her seriously. “You are not to go into any rooms that you can’t remember. If there is a room you remember that you think I might say no to, you don’t enter. Likewise for any objects you find. If you don’t know what it is, you don’t touch it. If you know what it does and think I wouldn’t allow it, you don’t touch it.”

Rose nodded, her smile returning.

“I’m not done. No pool, no jungle…”

“I know what qualifies as places you don’t want me to be,” she interrupted.

“Alright,” he conceded. “Just one last thing. When I call for you, you answer immediately. Understood?”

Rose nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

The Doctor watched her leave and she was smart enough to wait until she was out the door before she started skipping. She got her freedom and she couldn’t wait to explore.

The Doctor found Rose hours later in the ballroom. He hadn’t needed to call out for her, having heard the music that carried down the corridor. He chuckled when he saw her and leaned against the doorframe to watch. She wore a short black cocktail dress that hung to the toes of her small body, red high heel shoes that were much too large, a feather boa, and to complete the ensemble, a floppy red sun hat with a large bow. Not a child, she’d told him. She might have the memories of a long-lived adult, but she was most certainly a child. She was adorable, but it made him miss his Rose.

A Viennese waltz played through the room and Rose stepped and twirled to it, dancing with her invisible partner. She startled when he entered the room without announcing himself. He didn’t say a word until he stood before her. He bowed deeply and looked her in the eye as he courteously requested the dance.

“It would be my pleasure,” she replied decorously.

Before rising from his bow, he whispered that she might want to lose the shoes.

“Oh yeah.” She turned away and kicked the shoes across the room. When she turned back to him, she regained to her stately manner.

Rose laid her hand in his and reached up to place her other hand on his elbow. Unable to reach her little waist, the Doctor placed his free hand on her shoulder. He then led them into a waltz. He kept his steps small so not to overwhelm her and they moved perfectly together.

They danced silently for a few moments, but Rose couldn’t keep it in when another memory returned. “You taught me how to do this. I learned to waltz from you.”

“Yes. I remember it being a trying lesson, too,” he said with a smile.

“Only at first. You were such a grump then and you were only teaching me because I begged. You talked about banquets and balls and I wanted you to take me to one. You said we couldn’t go until I knew how to dance at one. I had to nag you for weeks.”

“You kept stepping on my toes,” he chuckled.

“I caught on quick,” she argued. “I’m missing something though… there was someone else with us, wasn’t there?”

The Doctor stiffened. “Just us.”

“No,” Rose disagreed. “Someone was watching us. I remember them laughing. They went to the ball, too.”

The Doctor stopped dancing then. “There were lots of people at the ball.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?” Rose asked anxiously. She knew something was wrong. She did something wrong again.

“Time for lunch.” He smiled at her, but it was an obvious mask. He left her in the center of the room with a worried frown. “Best go put that stuff back in the wardrobe. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The Doctor’s smile turned into a scowl the second he left the room. If there were any memories he wanted her to leave forgotten, they were the memories of _him_. If she remembered him, she’d forgive him and he didn’t deserve it.

Rose returned to the wardrobe room as instructed and began putting things away. The Doctor wanted her to let the memory go, but she couldn’t. He lied to her. He said, ‘just us’, but she knew there was someone else there. She sat on the stool near the mirror and placed all of her concentration on that memory. The person had gone to the ball with them. A tuxedo. He was a man. He stood in the ballroom doorway when the Doctor was teaching her. He was laughing. She couldn’t remember his laugh but she knew that he was doing it. She couldn’t remember his face or his voice, but she knew that she had known him well. He clapped when she got the hang of the steps. She couldn’t summon a single image of him. He was just a ghost of a memory.

She realized she was taking too much time in the wardrobe. The Doctor was expecting her and the last thing she wanted was for him to take away her wandering privileges because she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She would tuck the memory away for later though. She’d remember this man despite how the Doctor felt about it.

The afternoon was spent sledding on the snowy mountains of Foon. Though Rose claimed she chose the location because the sledding hills were the best, the Doctor knew it also had to do with the lodge’s phenomenal hot chocolate. They returned so late that Rose decided to skip her evening bath. The Doctor tucked her into their bed with her cheeks still rosy from the cold.

When he returned hours later, he dressed down to just his shirt and trousers, and slipped into bed. He never wore pajamas. Considering how little he slept, he thought it silly to change. Not to mention, one never knew when there’d be an emergency. He liked to always be ready for anything…


	8. Chapter 8

The Doctor woke in a sudden panic, his hearts beating wildly in his chest. It was two mere seconds since the noise and vibrations started echoing through his bedroom walls and he was wide awake that quickly. He flew from the bed without scanning it for Rose. He didn’t need to look to know that she wasn’t there. The TARDIS was in flight. There was only one place she could be.

“Rose!” he bellowed as he raced down the hall. He made it to the control room just as the TARDIS landed. Rose was at the door with her hand on the knob. “Rose!”

She spared him only half a glance before darting out of the TARDIS. He followed immediately after but stopped in the doorway when he heard her shout.

“Jack! Jack!”

Rose dashed across the dimly lit warehouse and didn’t slow until she crashed into the flabbergasted man at the edge of the room and threw her arms around his waist.

“Rose?” he asked in surprise.

“I remember you,” she beamed up at him. “I remember everything. All of our adventures. Slitheen, the Blitz, the Neanderthal in Bromley, Japan 1336. And you. You shave with a laser, you prefer coffee to tea, you sing in the shower, and you taught me to tango!”

Jack grinned brightly down at her, but the smile quickly fell away when he caught sight of the Doctor. Rose followed his line of sight and then looked down dejectedly, chastised by the Doctor’s expression alone.

The Doctor stood in the doorway with a cold, dark look on his face. This was the oncoming storm, the Doctor at his most dangerous. He could shout in rage, but it was when he stood in quiet, controlled anger that he was most fearsome. Rose had seen him like that many times, but it had never been caused by her.

“Rose, get in the TARDIS,” he ordered in a low voice.

She was fraught with anxiety, but she stood her ground, subtly shaking her head in response.

“Now!” the Doctor barked.

“No,” she answered quietly.

“Rose! Now!” he commanded.

“No!” Rose shouted in defiance, taking hold of Jack’s hand. “I’m not leaving ‘til you forgive him.”

The Doctor strode forward, took her by the upper arm, and pulled her from Jack’s side. “This man is dangerous and we’re not-“

“Get off me!” Rose demanded, shaking her arm from his grasp. The Doctor seriously considered throwing her over his shoulder and taking her away, but he knew it would be for nothing. Rose would simply pilot them back the second she was free.

“He’s not dangerous. He’s Jack,” she argued.

“He’s the one that did this to you! He’s the one that tortured you until you screamed, until you _died_! You remember what Torchwood did to you. He IS Torchwood!”

Jack stood quietly in place, remaining out of the conversation. He’d said what he could in his defense when the Doctor had come looking for Rose. He appreciated what Rose was trying to do, but she was asking too much.

“There was no other way!” Rose defended him, taking his hand again. “You weren’t here. You don’t understand. It was desperate. We didn’t have any other options. There was no choice.”

“He had the choice!” the Doctor argued. “He-“

“He didn’t! I didn’t give him one! It was _my_ choice! If you’re going to be angry, then you should be angry with me!”

“I AM!”

Rose stepped back like she’d be struck. She knew he’d be upset at her for bringing him there, but she never considered that he might be angry at her for what happened.

“What you did was foolish!” he continued. “You had no idea what the consequences might be. And the dangers you knew of, you dismissed! Did you mean to die?! Did you mean to regenerate?! Look what it did to you!”

“I’m still here though!”

“That doesn’t make up for anything! You hurt my Rose!”

“I AM your Rose!”

“All the worse the offense! I trusted you. Trusted you to take care of yourself. When someone you trust hurts someone you care about, that’s betrayal and I don’t take betrayal well.”

“Is that what you think I did?” Rose’s voice had dropped in volume, but her aggravation was still demonstrated by her glare. “Doctor, I didn’t have time to stop and think about how you’d feel about it. Lives were on the line and we needed to act. Were you in my place, it’s exactly what you would have done to yourself. You do it all the time. We both do. We live our lives giving all that we can to help the people that can’t help themselves. I don’t see why this is any different. My home planet was threatened and I did what I could to protect it.”

“Get in the TARDIS,” the Doctor ordered again.

“That’s your response? You can’t dispute it so you want to drop it? I’m not going in there. We’re not leaving yet. I told you-“

“You want to stay here? Is that what you want?” the Doctor snapped. “I could get in that TARDIS alone, if that’s what you want.”

Rose knew it was an empty threat, they all did, but it stung no less.

“We’re spending the day with Jack,” she quietly but firmly declared.

“Rose,” Jack started softly. “I think it’s best if you-“

“Don’t you start, Jack. Don’t you dare.” Rose pointed a threatening finger in his direction and he raised his hands defensively.

“We’re spending the day with Jack and you’re both going to have to get over it.”

The Doctor swept angrily into the TARDIS and the door slammed shut behind him.

“He’ll be back,” Rose assured herself. “He will.”

“Rose,” Jack said softly after a few minutes had passed.

Rose shook her head. She didn’t want his opinion. She knew the Doctor. He wouldn’t leave her. That fact didn’t assuage her anxiety though. Her eyes had been firmly fixed on the door for several minutes and she refused to look away. She was very serious that she wasn’t leaving until they both spent the day with Jack, but just how stubborn was the Doctor going to be?

Ten minutes after he entered the TARDIS, the Doctor returned, this time fully dressed. A great sense of relief washed over Rose. The Doctor had just gone to get dressed.

“So, Rose,” Jack asked tentatively, “What are we doing today?”

Rose tried her best to hide her uncertainty. She hadn’t gotten that far in her plan. “Breakfast. We haven’t eaten yet. Have you?”

“Not yet,” Jack replied. “Anywhere specific?”

Rose shrugged and placed that decision on Jack. He mentioned a diner not far from there and led them to his vehicle. The Doctor sat in the back and Rose considered joining him, but in his current mood, she thought she should sit up front. It was a silent ride and the silence continued until it was time to order their food. Conversation still didn’t come about until the drinks arrived.

“Milkshake for breakfast?” Jack chuckled.

“Why not?” Rose shrugged.

Jack was even more amused when Rose took her spoon and used it to eat all the whipped cream first. A milkshake for breakfast wasn’t just behavior of the child she was currently; that was the Rose he always knew.

“So it looks like you’ve gotten your memories back okay.”

“Most of them. I don’t think they’re all back,” she confessed. “I can’t know what I don’t know, but I just have this feeling like things are still missing. It’s coming back quickly though. Far sooner than the Doctor anticipated, I think.”

Rose looked up at the man next to her, hopeful that he might add something to the conversation, but she highly doubted he would. He hadn’t spoken a word since he went into the TARDIS to get dressed and his stoic mask was firmly in place.

“How long has it been for you?” Jack inquired. They had a time machine so there was no telling for him.

“Six days since we started the treatment. It should be that for you, too, right? I think I put in the right coordinates.”

“Yeah, I think so. I haven’t really been counting. I’ve been pretty busy since then.”

“I thought you might be. Lots of cleaning up to do after that mess. That’s why I didn’t come back immediately after.”

Jack just nodded.

“So how long’s it been since the game station?” she asked hesitantly.

“Lost track of that, too,” he admitted. “A little over 200, I think.”

“You look good for it,” she chuckled.

“Nah, I’m starting to show signs of aging.”

“Still as handsome as ever,” she assured him.

“Thanks. What about you though? You hardly look a day over eight.”

“Yeah, I’m quite a bit older than that. I’ve lost track, too.”

“Yeah, what about that regeneration thing? When did that come about?”

“Same time that you changed. It took several years to figure that out though. Jack, I never did get the chance to apologize for that. I really didn’t mean to do it. I-“

“Don’t apologize,” Jack interrupted. “It’s alright. I’ve come to terms with it. I think of it as something that was just meant to happen.”

Rose looked like she was about to apologize further, but Jack cut her off. “So this child age thing - are you going to be able to fix that, too?”

“The Doctor’s working on it.” Rose stole another glance at him, but when he didn’t look at her, she returned her attention to Jack. “He’s been working night and day on reverse engineering and he’s working now on building it. He’s worried about it, but I’m not. I have absolute faith that I’ll be back to normal soon.”

“Then back to traveling, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she grinned brightly. “How about you? How’s Torchwood coming along? Think you’ll be back in business soon?”

“No,” he answered heavily. “I’m letting it go. Been around here for a long time now. Think it’s time I return to the stars.”

“What will you do there? Where are you heading?” she asked with concern.

“Don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out when I get there,” he answered with a shrug.

“What about money?” she worried. “What will you do ‘til you find work?”

“I’ll figure that out, too. No need to fret over me. I’m a resourceful guy.”

Rose was troubled by it though. She reached into her small pocket and took out an electronic strip of credits. The Doctor had given it to her the day before to use at the lodge while they went sledding. She wasn’t sure exactly how much was on it, but knowing the Doctor, it was far more than she’d ever need. She laid the strip next to Jack’s coffee cup and gave him an encouraging smile.

“I don’t know how many creds it has, but it should help.”

Jack declined with a shake of his head. “I don’t want your money, Rose.”

“I didn’t ask if you did.”

Jack could tell by her attitude that there was no point in arguing. She was as stubborn as ever.

“So, what now, boss?” Jack asked as he sat back in his seat. They’d finished their breakfast a few minutes ago and he couldn’t stand sitting around much longer. The Doctor’s stiff manner was unsettling.

“Don’t call me boss,” Rose disapproved. “I might be stubborn, but I don’t mean to be pushy.”

Jack didn’t see the difference, but decided not to point it out.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confessed. “There’s really not much to do around here. I’d suggest the art gallery, but with you two… If this is awkward now, it’d be ten times as bad there. In fact, I think anything would be…” To say she was disheartened would be a terrible understatement. “This isn’t working out.”

“It’s alright, Rose,” Jack assured her. “It’s been great catching up with you. It really has. But it might be best if we headed back to the warehouse. I’ve still got a lot of work in burying Torchwood. Can’t leave any trace of it.”

“That’s perfect,” Rose agreed, a tiny hope returning to her. Jack and the Doctor looked at her in confusion.

“The Doctor can help out.” Rose knew she’d be in trouble for suggesting the idea, but it didn’t stop her.

The Doctor’s scowl returned. “I’m having nothing to do with Torchwood.”

 “But you wouldn’t,” Rose explained. “You’d be packing it up. You’d be helping to end it.”

The Doctor stood and headed for the door.

“Wait!” Rose called out. “Where are you going?”

“The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can leave.”

She was being childish. Rose recognized her plan as being childish, but she refused to give up on it. Her idea was that if the Doctor could only spend some time with Jack, he’d remember the man Jack really was. He was kind, loyal, and dependable. If the Doctor would only remember their history, he might be able to forgive Jack as he should. There was little hope of it, but Rose clung to it.

When they arrived back at Torchwood’s temporary home, Jack led the Doctor straight to the computer. Rose looked around the empty warehouse for something to occupy herself with. She wanted to give the two men privacy so that they might be able to talk. She moved to a table just out of earshot and looked around for chairs. When she didn’t see any, she simply climbed onto the table. There she found a catalog of aliens that Jack had encountered on Earth and began paging through it.

The Doctor sat down at the computer and began typing immediately, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Jack stood over his shoulder to watch. He explained to the Doctor what he’d been doing, but when the explanation was through, they fell back into silence. Several minutes passed before Jack worked up enough nerve to speak. He knew it was his last chance.

“I didn’t want to do it. There are few people I’ve ever met that mean as much to me as she does,” Jack declared solemnly. “It hurt far more than you realize. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you understand that.”

The Doctor acted like he hadn’t heard him and their silence resumed. It was only broken when Rose piped up suddenly.

“How do sornungs reproduce? Well, I don’t want to know the sex part, but where could the baby possibly come out?” Rose was studying the photo through squinted eyes, tilting her head like it might help her find the answer.

Jack laughed. “They don’t give live birth. They have eggs.”

“Still, it seems impossible. How do they do it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“That kind of answer means one of two things. They either vomit them up or poop them out. But how could that mix with their digesti-“

“Finished,” the Doctor announced as he got to his feet. “Torchwood’s done.”

Rose frowned deeply. It meant their time was up. She studied the Doctor’s expression. It was stone-like, but otherwise impossible to read. Jack looked equally inscrutable, which left Rose with the inability to tell if anything had passed between them.

Jack had even more reason to wonder about the Doctor. He had finished Jack’s work in just an hour, a task that would have taken Jack another whole day to complete. It wasn’t speed that surprised him though. Jack had explained what he was doing: encrypting everything, setting elaborate passwords, and hiding it as deeply as possible. What he expected, however, was that the Doctor would erase it all. The Doctor would delete everything absolutely, leaving no trace of Torchwood at all. Jack had watched in astonishment as the Doctor did exactly as he had requested. The Doctor buried it deeper than Jack would ever have been able to manage, but it was all still there. If ever Jack needed to access it in the future, it was there.

The Doctor stood before Jack and stared him in the eye. Jack’s posture was stiff and he tilted his chin defensively in preparation of the Doctor’s final words.

“There had to be a better solution,” the Doctor maintained firmly. “Next time, you better find it.”

The Doctor’s tone was hard and his expression stern, but Rose and Jack saw it for what it was. It was the best the Doctor could offer in the way of forgiveness. Jack would never be fully forgiven. The Doctor would forever place blame on him. But he was still giving Jack pardon for the offense. He would put the matter behind him and move on.

Their friendship might never be the same, but the Doctor would not speak of the event again. Jack doubted he’d ever see the man again to even benefit this second chance, but Rose was more hopeful. It might take her a few decades to soften him, but she’d make sure that together, they visited Jack again. And whether the Doctor liked it or not, she herself would visit him more regularly.

As Rose approached him, Jack squatted down to give her a hug.

“I deserve better than that,” she declared. “I want a proper hug.”

Jack lifted her off the ground and gave her a loving squeeze.

“This isn’t goodbye,” she whispered in his ear. “And if you ever need us again, you have my number. You better call. I mean it.”

Jack smiled sadly and placed her back on the ground. The Doctor said nothing, but she knew it was time to go. Rose took Jack’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “See ya around, Jack.”

Jack regarded her with an endearing smile and a small wave. “Take care, Rose.”

Her steps were heavy as she walked through the TARDIS door. The day wasn’t done. Though the Doctor had patched things up as well as he could with Jack, he hadn’t touched the issue with her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a difficult time with this chapter. I hope you still liked it. I really wanted the Doctor to truly forgive Jack, but I felt that it really wouldn't be that easy for him.


	9. Chapter 9

Rose had known the moment she decided to pilot the TARDIS that she’d be in trouble. She knew that the Doctor would be angry with her, but she’d had no idea just how much. She’d seen his fury when they arrived on Earth, but she’d pushed it aside in order to fulfill her plan. He was hard and silent, hiding the severity from her. She knew though, the second they entered the TARDIS, just how furious he was: he didn’t say a word.

She’d expected more yelling and, as he began piloting, she even began to hope for it. The way he looked at her was far worse. The heartache and sorrow she’d inflicted was spoken through his soulful eyes. He felt betrayed. Not only did she steal the TARDIS from under him and take him to the last place he wanted to be, she disobeyed him and played him like a jackass, pulling his strings and forcing him to stay there against his will. And in that time, she discovered that he blamed her for the choices she’d made and the state that she was in. If there was any word stronger than betrayal, she knew it’d be for her. To the Doctor, there was nothing worse.

And that was her punishment – his silence. He was so repulsed by her that he left the room. Rose began to cry the moment he left. He’d given her the silent treatment before, but she always returned it, as angry with him as he was with her. With all the years they travelled together, it was impossible to go on without the occasional spat. They’d have a row, do their shouting, and they’d walk off to avoid each other for awhile. She’d never seen him like this though. She’d never hurt him so deeply. So overwhelmed by tears of guilt that she could hardly stand, Rose made her way to their room where she could collapse on their bed and have a proper cry.

It took her a little over an hour to stop crying, but it was another couple hours before she found the strength to climb out of bed. Her stomach had been growling for ages, insisting on lunch, and she was finally giving in. She’d expected that she would have to prepare her own lunch, but she found a filled plate and cup on the table. The juice was room temperature and the bread of the sandwich was starting to get hard. She must have missed lunch by quite some time. Her watch was on the bedside table, but she hadn’t thought to look at it. It didn’t really matter. She ate her lunch and then did what she was dreading most: she went to find the Doctor.

He wasn’t hard to find. In fact, he was in the first place she looked. He sat in the workshop with his back to the door. She had the feeling that he knew she was there, but it took fifteen minutes for her to find the courage to speak.

“Are we going to do the treatment today?”

He acted like he hadn’t heard her, but after a moment, he put his sonic screwdriver back in his pocket, got to his feet, and led the way to the infirmary.

Rose took her place on the bed. The Doctor knew that she no longer need an explanation, so he gave none. She knew he would let her take his hand if she needed too, but she feared the grip would be without true comfort, so she gripped the bed sheets instead. She cried during the treatment, not out of fear, but because there was no story. He still didn’t look her in the face.

When the treatment was finished, all Rose wanted to do was return to bed. She told herself that she was stronger than that and forced herself to believe it. She went, instead, to the library. She laid out on the couch and sought to lose herself in the lives of fictional characters, but she only ended up reading the same paragraph over and over. The words simply wouldn’t stick. Giving it up, she retreated to the tv room to catch up on the shows she’d missed over the last week. It didn’t take the pain away, but it dulled her thoughts. That would have to be good enough.

Rose didn’t have a clock, but she knew that it was quite late, past her bedtime, when she finally went to the kitchen for dinner. The Doctor had laid out a meal for her again. It was cold, but she didn’t bother reheating it. She went along with her normal bedtime routine and was nearly in tears again when she tucked herself into their bed. She had hoped to see the Doctor before the day was through. She’d known better than to expect it, but she’d still hoped. It was because of that expectation that she was surprised to feel his weight settle onto the bed later that night. He didn’t need to sleep and she thought that he would simply skip it that night. He didn’t. He chose to come to her, to be near her. It spoke volumes.

Rose was testing her luck when she moved to cuddle beside him, but, not only did he accept her, he wrapped his arm around her to hold her closer. She wept again, this time in relief.

“I love you,” she said weakly.

The Doctor leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You know I love you, too.”

He greeted her the next morning when she entered the kitchen. He wore a smile, but it couldn’t fully hide his sadness. He’d rarely given her a genuine smile since she’d lost her memories, but it took her awhile to figure that out. He’d tried then and he was trying again now. He’d forgiven her and put everything behind them, but that didn’t stop him from worrying about her. He wouldn’t stop worrying until she was fully herself again. She’d do her best to cheer him though. She would keep her smile in place, too, and make sure they still had fun together.

That day, they resumed their normal routine, stating the day with breakfast, followed by a trip to the infirmary. When the treatment was through, the Doctor went off to the workshop while Rose was free to wander. Lunch was taken together and the afternoons were filled with one activity or another. The Doctor tucked her into bed each night and returned hours later to sleep beside her.

Two days later, Rose was almost certain that every memory was in place. She remembered everything. Another two days passed before Rose finally decided that they needed to talk. When she entered the workshop, the Doctor was reviewing his notes yet again.

Rose approached slowly and placed her hand on his arm, effectively gaining his attention.

After glancing at his watch, he informed her that it wasn't quite lunch time. "Soon though. I just have to-"

"It's finished, Doctor," she stated evenly. "You finished it days ago."

"Yes," he said quietly, turning to give it a little once-over. "I just have to check-"

"You have checked it. Many times. You've been assembling and reassembling. You've looked over your notes dozens and dozens of times. No matter how many times you look at it, you can't find a mistake that isn't there."

"I know, but I just can't chance there being-"

"It's time, Doctor," Rose insisted.

The Doctor watched as she moved to an open spot across the room and began undressing. He turned his head the moment she began removing her knickers. It felt indecent to look at Rose in such a state when she was so small. He knew exactly what she was doing; she was taking away his choice in the matter. When she returned to her adult body, her child's clothing wouldn't fit. She was preparing for that change. She was ready now and was insistent that he do what he'd been putting off for days.

"You're going to have to look at me. It's okay. I'm still me, just smaller."

"I can't do it," he replied despondently. "Not yet. One tiny miscalculation... I can't risk it, not with you."

"You're going to have to," she told him firmly. "You can't keep me like this because you're scared. I trust you and I trust that it's going to work, and if you can't have faith in yourself, then you'll have to rely on mine. Now do it."

The Doctor rose to his feet, hesitantly picked up the gun, and simply stared at it. He thought of his adult Rose and how he longed for her. Then he thought of the little girl on the other side of the room and aiming the gun at her. It wasn't a weapon, but it felt like one. He imagined her as an elder, crippled by old age. He imagined her as an infant which needed care day and night. And worse, he imagined her deformed, not aging properly at all. Whatever happened, it would be his doing.

"Doctor, stop thinking and just do it!" Rose ordered him fiercely.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"It will," she insisted vehemently.

"But what if it doesn't?"

"Then you try again. You're going to have to do it, so just do it. You know that if you don't, I'll find a way to do it myself."

The Doctor looked up at her then. That fierce, stubborn attitude; that was his Rose. She was right. He couldn't keep her like this.

The Doctor stood in front of her, a few paces away, and slowly lifted the gun. Rose had no fear, but the Doctor shook with it. He steadied his hands and took aim. His eyes clenched shut as he pulled the trigger. He didn't need to look to know that his aim was true and he couldn't bear to watch whatever transformation took place.

A few moments passed, but he still didn't dare to look. He hadn't known what would happen, whether she'd scream or groan or cry. What he hadn't expected at all was the silence and it scared him even more. What if it killed her? What if she was going to regenerate? He’d never be able to live with himself.

"Doctor?"

Rose's voice. Not the voice of a child, but of his Rose.

"Doctor, it's me. Open your eyes," she said encouragingly.

When he finally opened them, he caught her in the middle of her self-assessment. She looked over her arms, chest, and shoulders and then finally looked back up at him. "I look alright so far as I can tell, but what do you think?"

The Doctor stood silently as he stared at her with a soft, watery smile.

"I don't look older, do I? Do I look younger?" When he didn't answer, she began feeling her face nervously for any sign of wrinkles. She huffed when he still didn't answer. "I mean it, Doctor, how do I look?"

"Glorious," he proclaimed.

Rose saw his eyes begin to mist and she knew she was herself again. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. His arms wrapped around her waist and she pulled him into a passionate kiss. His hands moved up and down her sides as her fingers combed through his hair.

She chuckled and pulled back to look at him. "I've wanted to do that for a couple days now, but I thought it might be awkward."

"Yes, definitely. It was awkward enough having an eight-year-old cuddling me at night." He couldn't stop smiling. It was the genuine, joyful smile that she'd missed so much. She blushed at the way he was studying her face so intently, like he couldn't believe she was really there.

"Miss me?" she teased.

"More than you'll ever know."

Rose became tired of the sonic treatments, claiming she was alright, but the Doctor insisted that they continue them for another ten days. In addition, their adventures were light, sticking to destinations that he knew were peaceful. By the end of the tenth day, Rose was going mad with boredom. If the Doctor took her to one more beach or spa, she thought she might have to hurt him.

On the eleventh day, she was awake before him and walking circles around the console as she considered what destination she desired.

"Chomping at the bit, I see," the Doctor commented with a grin. "Any good ideas?"

"No," she sighed heavily. "I checked your messages to see if there were any distress calls. Not a single one."

"How many times have I told you to stop answering that phone?" he scolded.

"Well, someone has to," she argued. "No distress calls, but you did get an invitation from Lord Grivall."

"Who?"

"Lord Grivall of Sartiyon?"

"No! No, no, no, no," the Doctor adamantly refused. "I've had more than enough of the Sartiyonites."

"They've just invited us to a banquet. A banquet in our honor." Rose was beaming. This might be the perfect revenge for placing so many restrictions on her.

"It was supposed to be a banquet last time, but it was canceled because of an energy plant that was about to blow. They set us up! They invited us to a party when all they wanted was a fix-it man! I don't know why I went to that 'banquet' anyway. The first time I was there, they tried to behead me!"

"They may have called you because they needed a fix-it man, but you were brilliant. You saved the day. Now they want to thank you," Rose said with a shrug. 

"They can thank me by stop calling me," he grumbled. "I seriously have to stop giving out my number."

"You have," she reminded him.

"Then maybe I should change it."

"Can you?"

"Probably not. Just stop answering it," he ordered, pointing a demanding finger in her direction.

"Well... If you really don't want to go to Sartiyon, we could always go visit Marilyn," she suggested with a taunting grin. "She left a message, too."

"Marilyn who?"

"Marilyn Monroe. You remember her, don't you?"

"Grab a ball gown," the Doctor grumbled. "We're going to Sartiyon."

Rose might have been a handful when she was a child, but this Rose was altogether impossible to handle. That was his Rose though and he wouldn't have her any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those who left kudos and even more to those that took the time to leave reviews. Each one means so much. Really, thank you.   
> I'll start posting another story in the series soon, most likely tomorrow, so keep an eye out for it.


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